


Vita Brevis

by doeinstinct



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Police, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Bad Flirting, Buddy-Cop AU, Cop AU, Depression, Emotional Turmoil, Eventual Romance, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Guilt, Gun Violence, Humor, Investigations, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Swearing, Violence, Weapons, art thieves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-10-24 09:31:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10738947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doeinstinct/pseuds/doeinstinct
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov is questioning his position as a detective with the Detroit Police Department and spiraling after his partner is critically injured in the line of duty. When Yuuri Katsuki is assigned as his new partner on what he thinks may be his last case, he has no idea what he’s in for.





	1. Chapter 1

It takes all of Viktor’s waning restraint to keep himself from throwing his alarm clock across the room, where it would, with any luck, shatter into hundreds of pieces that could never be reassembled. He has just finished the longest weekend of his life, and he still has three cases waiting on his desk. As he peels his eyes open, wincing at the bright early-morning sunshine peeking through his curtains, he’s unsure if he actually slept at all the previous night.

The bed seems to have it’s own gravity as he slowly pulls himself away and stands up, body wobbling slightly once he makes it to his feet. Makkachin wuffs quietly from the end of the bed, which only serves to make the deafening stillness and silence in the space more noticeable. Viktor sighs, futilely trying to break the silence again and stretching his arms above his head. He tries not to think about the obvious creaking in his bones as he does.

His hand drops down to pat at Makkachin’s head and sooth him back to sleep for a while longer before shuffling into the bathroom. His morning routine has practically drilled itself into his very core at this point and he tries not to think of how sad and dreadfully boring that sounds.

The shower water beats down onto his back, too hot, leaving his skin raw and red, but he hardly notices. His mind wanders as he tilts his head back and allows the water to flood over his face and hair, briefly thinking about how long it used to take to shower when he had long hair.

He snaps out of his reverie when he realizes the water has started to cool, he jumps to finish washing his hair and hops out of the shower. He hurriedly wipes the steam from his mirror to shave.

As he finally slips his jacket over his shoulders, a weak and flavorless cup of coffee settles heavily in his stomach, and he sends an apologetic look over his shoulder at Makkachin. Makkachin huffs at him from the couch and lays his head on the armrest with a suspiciously judgemental look in his eyes.

“I’ll take you for a long walk when I get home tonight, Makka, I promise,” he says as he closes his door and locks it. He gently taps his forehead against the heavy wood for a few moments before gritting his teeth and spinning around to go to the station before he can second-guess himself again.

__

The 6th is bustling when he arrives, and he is greeted with a particularly scathing look from Officer Yuri Plisetsky as soon as he steps inside.

“Yurio, what did I do this time?” Vikor asks as he approaches, false cheer only seems to make Yuri even angrier as he stands up and slams an old, dingy file down on the other side of the desk for Viktor to look at. He opens the folder with another sneer before he speaks.

“What the hell are you doing snooping around in my dedulya’s cold cases, Nikiforov?” he asks, teeth bared as if to scare Viktor off through sheer force of will. Viktor raises his hand to his chest in mock-offense as he looks over Yuri’s face critically.

“An old detective can’t have a bit of fun on a slow weekend?” he asks, snatching up the file before Yuri can take it back. He starts speaking again before Yuri can bring up the fact that it was not, in fact, a slow weekend at all. “Besides, it’s not like the Chief is working them, why do you care so much?”

“Why are _you_ so obsessed with some stupid grand larceny case from the 70’s?” Yuri spits back. Viktor rolls eyes, and walks toward his own desk to set the file down. He huffs out a short laugh when Yuri follows after him, stomping the whole way.

“I’m not _obsessed_ ,” Viktor says calmly. Yuri laughs, but Viktor finds it difficult to identify any merriment in it. Yuri leans his hip against Viktor’s desk once he sits down and moves the file down into a drawer.

“According to Georgi you’ve taken _six_ casefiles out of the records room, all of them involving grand larceny, and all of them from the late 70’s. What’s your deal?” When Viktor looks up to argue, Yuri already has a sharp grin spreading across his lips. “What, lose your touch on all your _current_ cases, or something, old man?”

“I sure hope you’re kinder to your dedushka when you speak to him,” Viktor says blithely.

“Stop deflecting, geezer, and leave my dedulya out of it. There’s something going on.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, Yurio.”

“I told you not to call me that. Is your memory going, or are you just being an asshole this morning?” Yuri’s voice grows steadily louder as he leans in, arms crossed and glares down at Viktor with suspicion. His lips curls back slightly as Viktor just smiles placidly at him.

“I distinctly remember being accosted the second I walked through the door, so you tell me.”

Yuri clicks his tongue, and rolls his eyes at the bright, cheery smile Viktor sends his way and he walks back to his own desk.

“I’ll figure out what you’re doing, Nikiforov.” Yuri’s voice carries over the hustle-and-bustle of the morning excitement as the weekday crew settles in for another long monday. Viktor smirks, turning his head over his shoulder just slightly.

“Good thinking, Yurio, it’s never too early to start honing those detective skills!” Viktor shouts back at him, earning him a vicious glare that he doesn’t deign to respond to. Lieutenant Yuuko Nishigori gives Viktor a pensive look from her desk across the room beside Yakov’s office, but Yakov’s door slamming open keeps her from saying anything.

“Nikiforov!” Yakov shouts, silence falling over the room. “My office. Now.”

Viktor’s eyebrows furrow as he  jumps to his feet, ignoring the jeer Yuri shouts at him and strides into Yakov’s office at an easy pace. This only makes Yakov’s scowl deepen. When the door closes behind him with a click that rings with an air of finality, Yakov moves past Viktor to sit heavily in his chair, running a hand over his aging face. “Vitya, what the hell are you doing?” he asks, voice soft. Viktor’s stomach swoops and drops, his throat suddenly very dry.

“Yakov, I have no idea what you’re—”

“Drop the act,” Yakov commands. “This was the fourth weekend shift you’ve picked up in a row. It’s obvious you’re not sleeping enough, and I’m sure more than one of your fellow officers is starting to wonder if you’re eating at all.”

“I’m eating _and_ sleeping, it’s fine, Yakov. I’m fine, you’re worrying for nothing. I just feel like I’m on a roll. I wouldn’t want to break it with a weekend off.”

“That’s a flimsy excuse, even for you,” Yakov answers dryly. Viktor pouts, slumping into the chair across from Yakov and looking away. “I know that it’s been hard for you since Detective Giacometti’s been relieved of duty, but—”

“You and I both know that Chris isn’t ever coming back after that, Yakov.”

Yakov just sighs, looking Viktor over and making him shift awkwardly in his seat.

“You’re an incredible detective, Vitya, you already know that. So, what’s going on?

“Nothing is going on, I don’t know why you would—”

“I heard that you’ve been digging through cold cases instead of trying to solve the cases I’ve already assigned to you,” Yakov says, eyes steely. Viktor takes a shuddering breath and looks down at the fading blue carpeting.

“I just think they might be related to a case I’m working on.”

“They aren’t even related to _each other_ , Vitya.”

“I just think I’m onto something, okay? Just...just trust me. Please?”

Yakov drags his hands over his face again, leaning his elbows on his desk and looking heavenward as he tries to word his response perfectly. As if trying to phrase a rejection without breaking Viktor’s spirit more than it clearly already was.

“Fine,” he says finally, releasing the tension settling deep in Viktor’s gut. “But you need to focus on the cases you have _now_ , as well. They need to have your attention.”

“Of course, thank you, sir,” Viktor says with a little happy lilt in his voice that makes Yakov roll his eyes.

“Just get to work. We have a new detective transferring from the 11th. He comes highly recommended by the Deputy Chief, so play nice, he’ll be here any minute. He’s going to be your new partner.”

This gives Viktor pause.

“I’m sorry, my what?”

Yakov gives Viktor a stern glare, leaning forward on his desk. He somehow looks larger and Viktor immediately feels scolded as he pushes himself up to his feet and takes a step away from Yakov’s desk.

“He’s going to be your partner,” Yakov says again, slower. His eyes narrow, daring Viktor challenge him or argue. Viktor’s throat immediately closes up and he tries to swallow down the lump blocking his airway. “He’ll work the arson case with you, and no, you don’t have a say in the matter.”

“Wh—Yako— _Captain_ ,” Viktor amends at the sharp look he receives. “You can’t be serious. I don’t _need_ help on the arson case. I’ve been doing fine on my own this long, haven’t I?”

“That’s a good question, Vitya. How many hours of sleep have you gotten?”

“Ten.”

“Last night?” Yakov asks, disbelief clear in his tone. Viktor bites his lip and looks away, fiddling with the badge hanging around his neck.

“Last week.”

Yakov spits a few curses under his breath in Russian, but Viktor eagerly chooses to ignore them as he bounces on the balls of his feet. “I just really think I’m onto something here, Captain,” Viktor says, as if pushing the subject will make Yakov somehow agree with him. Yakov shakes his head.

“Your health cannot be sacrificed for _this_ , Vitya. How are you supposed to function if you’re not healthy? How are you supposed to be even a _half-decent cop_ if you’re not healthy?”

“I’m perfectly healthy!” Viktor argues, shying away from the dirty glare Yakov gives him as he slowly stands from his chair and leans his hands on top of his desk. Despite being quite a bit taller than him, Viktor feels impossibly small under Yakov’s gaze.

“You’re _not_ , and you’re taking tomorrow off. I won’t hear anything else on the matter, do you understand me, Detective Nikiforov?”

A chill runs down Viktor’s spine at Yakov’s tone and the only thing he can do is nod. His hands are shaking, but he can’t tell if it’s from Yakov’s voice, the sleep deprivation, or the fact that he hasn’t eaten a good meal in close to three days.

“Yes, sir,” he says, voice like glass. How is he supposed to tell Yakov that he doesn’t remember why he became a cop in the first place? How can even begin to phrase the fact that this one case feels like the only thing keeping him from snapping in two.

How should he tell Yakov that every night when he lies awake staring at his ceiling he wishes that he had taken the bullet instead of Chris? If only to rid himself of the sick gnawing guilt building up deep in his gut every single day. If only to convince himself that he’s really making a difference. That he’s really protecting the people he vowed to serve.

Viktor’s eyes glance up from the ground to meet Yakov’s unwavering gaze before he sighs and shuffles out of the office. He knows that Yakov is right, he knows that he’s not taking care of himself, but there’s no other way he knows to occupy his mind than working. Not to mention the fact that every time he closes his eyes all he can think about is Chris in a hospital bed or doused flames and thick, crackling smoke; the scent of smoldering wallpaper and blazing walls flooding his senses.

He wants to prove to himself that there’s still a reason for him to be a cop. Somehow.

As he steps out of Yakov’s office, his stomach twists into knots so tight he’s unsure if he’s capable of ever untying them. He’s already feeling so conflicted about his job, how can he be a good partner to this new detective? How is he supposed to help someone else if he isn’t even sure how to help himself?

He briefly thinks of the letter of resignation he has typed and saved as a draft on his laptop, something he had written and rewritten too many times for him to count in the wake of Chris’ hospitalization and relief of duty. He still hasn’t printed it, but he has spent hours on bad nights seriously considering it. It would probably save a lot of people a lot of grief if he just left the force early. He knows that.

At least that’s what he tells himself.

He closes Yakov’s door behind him and leans back on it with a short sigh. Maybe he should take a sabbatical once this arson case is over. Figure out what he’s doing and go from there.

When he finally looks up, his breath is sapped from his lungs in a rush and he feels like he’s been punched in the gut. His knees are weak and tremble beneath him as he sinks into the nearest open seat.

Across the room is possibly the most stunning person Viktor has ever seen in his entire life, and he’s not sure how he’s ever going to recover. His hair is slicked back and out of his face and he wears big, blue-rimmed glasses. His skin looks soft and warm and suddenly the only things Viktor can stare at are his lips.

A hand on his shoulder nearly jolts Viktor right out of his skin as he looks up to see Yuuko looking at him kindly, but Viktor is sure there’s a mischievous twinkle beneath it all.

“You’re sitting at my desk, Viktor,” she says patiently. Viktor looks down, as if only just realizing that he may not be at his own desk, and then looks back up at Yuuko helplessly.

“Yuuko, I need help,” he says. Yuuko looks like she’s doing her best to hold back a laugh, but she doesn’t do a very good job.

“With what?” she asks. Viktor briefly considers just not answering, but quickly decides that it would be just a touch too petty, so he sighs, looking back across the room at where the gorgeous man is talking to Yuri and laughing.

“I don’t know that man’s name, and I need to,” Viktor says, as if that sort of thing should be the top priority in a police station. Yuuko grins at him with a knowing glint in her eyes and Viktor is immediately aware that he’s made some sort of mistake.

“His name is Yuuri Katsuki,” she says, leaning on her desk casually as she manages to grab Yuuri Katsuki’s attention and wave him over to them. Over to where Viktor is currently having a crisis about how unbearably attractive _Yuuri Katsuki_ is. Viktor’s stomach swoops at the bright smile on his face as he waves at Yuuko. This could not be good for his health. “He’s our newest detective.”

The whole world stops as Viktor’s lungs squeeze and he’s suddenly fully aware of all the implications that sentence holds. He looks at Yuuko desperately.

“But that would mean he’s—” Viktor cuts himself off when Yuuri gets close enough and does his best to put on a look even close to resembling suave when his eyes meet Yuuri’s. Yuuri looks away quickly.

“Yuuri!” Yuuko says warmly as she leans over the desk to wrap her arms around Yuuri’s shoulders. “It’s so good to see you again,” she tells him. Yuuri nods along, hugging her back and very obviously not looking at Viktor. Yuuko seems to notice with an unhelpfully smug smile. “This is Detective Viktor Nikiforov. Your new partner.”

Yuuri’s eyes finally snap back to Viktor and Viktor immediately has to wonder if it’s possible to faint just from proximity to someone as beautiful as Yuuri. His warm brown eyes are consuming Viktor and he doesn’t ever want to look away, but he’s certain the obvious bags under his eyes aren’t entirely fun to look at, so he breaks their gaze first.

His eyes rove over Yuuri’s face for a long moment, longer than is socially acceptable at least, and notes the lovely way Yuuri’s cheeks flush under his scrutiny. When the flush moves down past Yuuri’s collar, Viktor snaps himself out of his reverie and jumps to his feet. He sticks his hand out quickly with what he hopes is a cool and collected grin. His heart is hammering, can Yuuri hear it?

“It’s great to meet you, I look forward to our partnership,” Viktor says, a touch too enthusiastic.

“Uh—Yeah! I’m also...looking forward to that,” Yuuri says and Viktor can feel his smile widening as Yuuri takes his hand.

“Glad you two are both _looking forward_ to everything,” Yuuko cuts in, ushering Viktor out from behind her desk and sitting down in her chair again. “Because Yakov wants that arson case to be your top priority, Viktor. Yuuri, you’ll be working the case, too, he’ll catch you up.”

“Right,” Viktor says, thankful for the distraction of work, but still trying to remember how to breathe. He’s already had a hard time with the constant throb of guilt thrumming beneath his skin, he isn’t sure he’ll be able to manage if the fluttering, bubbly sensation filling his stomach persists, as well.

“Thanks, Yuuko—I mean Lieutenant!” Yuuri says, spine straight and head nodding respectfully. Yuuko laughs, sorting through and organizing an open folder on her desk. Viktor can see that it’s one of the cold cases he pulled last week. He smirks.

“You can still call me ‘Yuuko,’ Yuuri,” she says easily, turning to Viktor. “We grew up in the same town.” Viktor nods, even though he has so many questions. Yuuko _knows_ Yuuri. He has so many questions on the tip of his tongue, but reigns himself in, shaking his head and sighing. It really isn’t the time, and it probably isn’t wholly appropriate to be asking his superior officer about another officer’s childhood in the first place. He needs to focus on work, he had promised Yakov that he would. His letter of resignation flashes through his mind again and he clenches his teeth.

He takes a calming breath, hopes that Yuuri doesn’t notice, and nods.

“Come on, Yuuri, I’ll fill you in on our way to the scene.”

Viktor brushes past Yuuri and plucks his jacket off the back of his chair and turns to see Yuuri still standing frozen in front of Yuuko’s desk. “Yuuri?” Viktor asks, and Yuuri physically jumps and darts over to him.

“Sorry! We’re going to the scene?” he asks, keeping stride with Viktor as they walk through the building and toward the doors. Viktor nods.

“Maybe you’ll find something there that I’ve missed,” he says. Yuuri looks away, but Viktor catches the light blush blooming over his cheeks.

__

“So, just the main floor barbershop and the apartment above it were severely damaged?” Yuuri asks from the passenger seat. His glasses rattle softly in the cupholder as he holds the file and reads it carefully. Viktor nods, trying not to look directly at Yuuri’s face for fear of steering the car into a tree, or something equally distasteful and embarrassing. “But the fire started in the barbershop, right?”

“Yeah, from the looks of it, the apartment was just collateral damage,” Viktor says. “The storage space on the third floor was practically untouched, and inventory of the space came back with everything accounted for.”

Yuuri hums, pursing his lips as he scans the report again.

“And the barber? Did he mention anyone who would want to destroy his shop or hurt him?”

“He couldn’t think of anyone. As far as I know, it’s a pretty popular shop in the neighborhood, and all the canvassing we did came back with nothing.”

Yuuri doesn’t respond as he arrive at the scene. He slips his glasses back on and closes the file. Viktor groans as they approach the scorched building, a familiar truck looming on the curb. “Great,” he mutters. Yuuri frowns as he looks toward Viktor and reaches for his gun. It’s just a twitch, but Viktor recognizes it immediately.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. Viktor almost considers letting him believe there’s danger ahead, but immediately decides that would be incredibly petty, probably dangerous, and would almost certainly cost him his job, so he just sighs.

“It’s the fire department. They allowed us to work the case with them, but they’ve been trying to shoehorning the investigation from the start. I think they only let me on the case for posterity,” Viktor says, nodding toward the truck. “The Fire Commissioner is here.”

Yuuri stops to look the truck over with a deep frown. Viktor tries not to take advantage of his concentration and check him out, but he feels his eyes straying on the strong set of Yuuri’s shoulders more than once despite that.

“Well, if it isn’t Detective Nikiforov!” A boisterous voice calls out and Viktor’s hackles rise. He turns his head to see Fire Commissioner JJ Leroy emerging from the building with a wide grin on his face. He doesn’t acknowledge Yuuri as he approaches, which only makes Viktor’s frown deepen.

“Commissioner Leroy, what a lovely surprise,” Viktor answers icily, a dangerously placid smile on his lips. JJ laughs, smacking Viktor on the back and getting too close to him. Viktor can’t tell if he’s being willfully ignorant, or honestly doesn’t understand what Viktor’s expression means, but he tenses either way. “I was just bringing my new partner to the scene so he can familiarize himself with the case,” Viktor says, extricating himself from JJ’s arm and gesturing to Yuuri who waves with an awkward smile.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” JJ says, waving his hand out with a cocky smirk. “Because we’re already closing in on the culprit.”

“Really,” Viktor says, tone flat, but it doesn’t seem to deter JJ, who nods and makes two J’s with his hands.

“That’s right, Detective. Don’t be too impressed.”

“I’ll do my best,” Viktor says. “Who was it?” he asks after a moment, unsure if he believes that the Fire Department really managed to work that quickly.

“The tenant in the apartment above the barber shop,” he says with excessive flair. Viktor resists the urge to sigh and roll his eyes, just barely. He slaps on another empty smile instead and tilts his head to the side.

“That’s a pretty big accusation, what evidence do you have?” he asks. He can see Yuuri shooting him a concerned glance but ignores it.

“The barber was his landlord, and apparently he’s been raising the rent consistently for the past year.”

“That seems pretty severe, why wouldn’t the tenant just move out?” Yuuri asks, drawing JJ’s attention to him for the first time since he walked out of the building.

“The barber said that the tenant insisted that the apartment was the _only_ place he could live. Something about it being the ‘absolute safest place.’ But he wouldn’t say what he was worried about being safe from in the first place.”

“You’ve already arrested him?” Viktor asks, his pulse speeding up. This feels wrong, there’s something missing. They’re missing something important, and they’re going to arrest the wrong person. He can feel it in his bones.

“No, we’re gathering some final evidence first,” JJ says, still with a proud puff in his chest.

“I see, that’s a good idea,” Viktor agrees, heart suddenly pounding against his chest with the need to solve the case, the need to figure out who really set the fire. He can do this, he _needs_ to. The overwhelming pressure to solve the case crashes around him like crumbling walls, crushing him under twisting, crawling desperation. If he can’t solve this case, what is he? The world blurs and tilts and he briefly wonders if he’s really split in two, really fallen apart on a blocked off street corner next to a burned building.

There’s a hand on his shoulder, and Viktor gasps softly, blinking his eyes and glancing to Yuuri who gives him a quick smile, even though his eyes are clearly concerned, swimming with questions he doesn’t ask. Viktor is silently grateful.

“You wouldn’t mind if we take a look around anyway, would you, Commissioner Leroy?” Yuuri asks, his voice like saccharine and Viktor’s breath leaves him all over again, this time much more pleasantly. His chest still pulses, squeezing and making it difficult to breathe, but his heart is thumping with a lovely ache, and his head is spinning.

He doesn’t hear the rest of the conversation before a hand is gripping his arm and pulling him toward the building. Once they’re through the doors and out of sight, Yuuri grips both of his shoulders and Viktor feels like he’s been jolted out of a dream.

“Are you okay?” is all Yuuri asks, removing his hands as quickly as he had placed them. Viktor’s body droops slightly as he nods and moves his hair out of his eye with a weak sigh. He looks away from Yuuri who still stares at him with determination. “Viktor, I need for you to tell me if you’re okay,” he says.

“Yeah, yeah,” Viktor finally assures, his throat dry. His knees feel weak, trembling under his weight. Can Yuuri see it? “I’m okay, don’t worry about it.”

“You look like you’re about to pass out, do you want to sit down?” Yuuri asks gently, like he sees right through Viktor and all the walls he’s spent years meticulously building up around himself. Viktor shakes his head, trying to push through. He has to be a good cop. He has to show Yuuri and Yakov and _everyone_ that he’s still a good cop. “Viktor?” Yuuri asks and Viktor looks up again, cursing softly in Russian before shaking his head again and turning around to make his way up to the second floor apartment.

“I’m fine, thank you, Yuuri,” he says without turning around. “Don’t worry about me.”

There’s a scoff behind him, but Viktor ignores it.

“You’re my partner, right? Isn’t it part of my job description to worry about you?” Yuuri asks as he makes his way into the apartment behind Viktor.

“Not for long, since they’re about to arrest the arsonist,” Viktor says quickly, looking around the apartment and pretending that Yuuri isn’t there, if only for the sake of his heart.

“You and I both know that they have the wrong guy,” Yuuri snaps. At Viktor’s silence, he huffs and moves to stand in front of Viktor, pressing an accusatory finger into his sternum. “Look, I know we only just met, but I really need for you to work with me, here. Because I’ve kept quiet about that fact that you look like you haven’t eaten or slept in a solid week, and about how your hands shake almost constantly. I didn’t bring up the fact that you look like you’re going to break down at any moment, but I can see it, Viktor. I don’t know if the rest of the station just _doesn’t_ see it or if they’re being willfully ignorant for your sake, but I won’t do that.”

Viktor purses his lips, rubbing his temples and moving his hair away from where it has fallen in his face.

“You’re making this more difficult than it needs to be,” Viktor says, and Yuuri just seems to get angrier.

“ _I’m_ making this difficult? Are you kidding me? You’re destroying yourself and you don’t even seem to _care_ ,” Yuuri says. He deflates slightly as he takes in the pained look on Viktor’s face, looking away and running a hand through his hair. “I always thought...nevermind.”

He walks away, looking over the space carefully and tilting his head as he looks at the scorch marks marring the walls. Viktor desperately wants to know what he was going to say. He pulls himself back enough to focus, the stilted silence pinching at his skin every time he glances at Yuuri, but he tries to ignore it. This is better anyway. He doesn’t want to disappoint Yuuri any more than he clearly already has.

“What are you thinking?” Viktor asks after a long silence, catching Yuuri staring intently at the charred remains of what Viktor can only assume was a small side table.

“Do you think the Commissioner would let us look at all the evidence they’ve gathered?” Yuuri asks, looking up at Viktor. There’s a twinkle in his eyes and Viktor is overcome with a blossoming warmth starting in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m sure we can work something out,” he says once he’s sure that he won’t blurt out something embarrassing like telling Yuuri that his eyes are beautiful or that Viktor likes his smile. Yuuri nods and turns around to make his way out of the apartment at that, turning at the door to look at Viktor.

“Are you coming, or not?”

Viktor’s feet move without his permission, as if Yuuri’s voice was pulling him forward on its own. Viktor finds that he doesn’t really mind.

__

“Leroy said he would send the evidence over this afternoon,” Viktor says, leaning against Yuuri’s desk as he gets situated, laying out the case file and another file VIktor doesn’t recognize. Yuuri nods up at Viktor, somewhat absent. “What case is that?” Viktor asks, rolling his chair over to sit at the side of Yuuri’s desk and nodding to the second casefile. Yuuri stiffens.

“It’s just a hunch,” he says offhandedly. “It’s probably nothing.”

Viktor doesn’t believe him, but he lets Yuuri slip the file into a drawer without further question. After an awkward moment, Viktor stands from his chair quickly, startling Yuuri and dashes to his desk. He pulls out the stack of cold cases he’s been pouring over and slams them down on Yuuri’s desk.

“I feel like there’s a connection between these cases and our arsonist,” Viktor says. He can tell that Yuuri sees the mask he has on, but he doesn’t mention it. Viktor’s lips twitch into a more genuine smile and Yuuri’s do the same.

“Grand larceny?” Yuuri asks. Viktor bites at his lip as he slips into his chair and and scoots closer until his knees bump the side of Yuuri’s desk.

“Maybe not that part, but what about the evidence found and the scene and the general look of the crime scene?” Viktor asks. His heart is pounding. Yuuri frowns, looking through the case files.

“None of these involve arson,” he says.

“Right, but that’s not the point. Plus a small fire was involved in case 78173242. Anyway, the point is that each of the scenes was completely clean, no sign of forced entry and nothing out of place. Doesn’t that seem familiar?”

Yuuri sighs, looking through the case files and comparing it to the file they had for the arson case. His eyebrows furrow as he does and Viktor fights off the urge to smooth it out.

“Maybe,” Yuuri says finally. “It’s a stretch but...it could be something.”

Viktor beams, leaning forward without thinking, lips nearly brushing Yuuri’s cheek before he jerks back. Viktor’s eyes widen, his mind clearing from the rush of excitement at someone else seeing a connection and his heart slams against his chest. Yuuri stares at him with wide eyes and a deep frown. Viktor swallows past the lump in his throat before clearing it and sitting back down. Viktor tries to ignore the heat in his face as he sees Yuuri’s cheeks turning pink as well.

“I knew you would see it, too,” he says, awkwardly. Yuuri is worryingly red by the time he looks Viktor up and down for a moment before nodding once and looking back down at the files. He swallows thickly and pointedly avoids looking into Viktor’s eyes again. Viktor files this information away with a smirk.

They pour over the cases together as they wait for the evidence to arrive. When it finally does, Viktor doesn’t even finish helping Yuuri unpack the box when Yakov’s office opens and Viktor freezes.

“Detective Nikiforov, out,” he says, his voice sharp and unyielding. “Go home. And if I see you anywhere near this building tomorrow you _will_ regret it.”

Viktor sighs, hanging his head and nodding.

“Yes, sir.”

Yuuri looks between them with a pained frown.

“Viktor, what’s—?”

“Here,” Viktor interrupts, leaning down and grabbing a pen from the corner of Yuuri’s desk. “My number. If you find anything or have a question, just call me.”

Yuuri nods, confusion still clouding his eyes. Viktor smiles with an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll be back on Wednesday. See you then, Yuuri.”

Yakov watches him leave, as if he doesn’t believe that Viktor will really do it if he isn’t there to force him. Viktor can’t blame him.

__

Viktor steps into the hospital room with his head down and his hands buried in his coat pockets. He hears Chris snort and looks up with a frown. Before he can ask, Chris sets his book down and looks at him over his glasses.

“I’m surprised you’re not at the precinct,” he says. Viktor smiles and shrugs.

“Yakov forced me to leave and take tomorrow off, too.”

“Good, you look like shit,” Chris says as he plucks his bookmark from the bedside table and closes his book around it. Viktor wheezes out a sound that could only barely pass as a laugh as he dropped into the chair beside Chris’ bed.

“Thanks,” he says, tone flat.

“Have you even slept since it happened?”

Viktor shrugs, trying to disappear into the collar of his coat to no avail.

“I’ve tried.”

“Viktor,” Chris sighs and Viktor flinches, trying not to look at him. Chris takes his glasses off and rubs at the bridge of his nose slowly. “You know this wasn’t your fault.”

Viktor shakes his head, leaning forward to press his elbows on his knees and run his hands through his hair. His breath comes out ragged and hitched and his shoulders are already shaking. His thoughts are spiralling already, aching guilt swirling in his stomach, twisting through his body like venom and sending frigid cold through his veins.

“Yes it is. It’s my fault because I wasn’t there on time, I wasn’t with you when I should have been. It’s all my fault, I know I should have—that I messed up, and—!”

“Vitenka, it’s okay,” Chris murmurs with a deep frown. He reaches out and lays his hand on Viktor’s shoulder, and his touch is like a flame. Viktor grips Chris’ hand, desperate and sorry and shaking. Chris winces at his hold but just says “I _don’t_ blame you, these things happen.”

“It should have been me.” Viktor’s voice is sharp like a clap of thunder in the small, silent space, and the following silence sinks in slowly and painfully until Viktor’s body is consumed in it. Chris’ hand on his shoulder tightens, fingertips digging into his skin and leaving bruises in their wake.

“ _No_ ! Don’t you _dare_ say that,” he snaps. He takes a breath. “ _Please_ don’t say that. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if it was you instead of me.”

“How do you think I feel?” Viktor asks lifting his head and looking at Chris with a wry, empty smile. Chris sighs and smiles back, a glint that had been absent for days after the incident swimming in his bright green eyes. It was the first real, genuine smile Viktor had seen on him since he had be hospitalized. The tension and chill in Viktor’s stomach fades for a moment.

“Yeah, but _I_ can retire and become a model, you’d never make it with that sad face,” Chris tells him.

Viktor scoffs, nodding and leaning back in his chair as he runs both of his hands over his face. His stomach still twists and writhes, but it’s more bearable, it’s not overwhelming anymore. He can breathe.

“I guess you have a point,” he agrees, and Chris laughs.

“You’re damn right I do,” he says. “You should go home.”

Viktor shakes his head, sinking into the chair.

“Not yet, I’ll go in a bit.”

Chris looks Viktor over with an indulgent smile and nods slowly, slipping his glasses off and laying them down on the bedside table. He folds his hands in his lap and looks at Viktor expectantly. Viktor suddenly felt very exposed. “Who’s been taking care of Lucila by the way?” he asks by way of deflection. Chris clicks his tongue but humors him.

“Matthieu has been staying at my apartment and taking care of her when he isn’t here.”

“Oh, right. You’ve been seeing him for a while, haven’t you?” Viktor asks. Chris face quirks into a smirk that Viktor has rightly learned to fear over the course of his time as Chris’ partner.

“As long as you’re counting _five years_ as a _while,”_ Chris musese. Viktor lets his head fall back with a weak laugh.

“Has it really already been five years since that case?”

“It’s hard to believe, I know. Time passed us by so fast. We made a great team, though.”

“I’m thinking about retiring,” Viktor blurts, bypassing Chris’ reminiscing and starting at the blanket covering Chris’ legs on the small bed.

“W...what?”

“I’m...considering retiring. I’ve already written my letter of resignation.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Chris cuts in, his eyes narrowed. It’s the angriest he had seen Chris in such a long time, that his chest tightens. “I _know_ that isn’t what you want, there’s something else going on.”

“You always were too good at reading me.”

“This isn’t a joke, Viktor. You _love_ being a cop.”

Viktor shrugs, a touch petulant as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at the end of the bed.

“Maybe, but what’s the point? What’s the point of being a cop if I’m not a good one? I can’t even protect my own partner, how am I supposed to keep the people I’ve sworn to protect safe?”

“I went off on my own, Vitka. I left _you_ , how is that your fault? Even _you_ can’t account for everything.”

Viktor just shrugs. Chris sighs. “Okay, you need about twelve hours of sleep and a hot meal. Go home, cuddle with Makkachin, take care of yourself. The next time I see you, you’d better look presentable. And less sad. Figure out what this is really about, I mean it.”

Viktor doesn’t argue, he stands as a tall man clad in a black trench coat steps into the room with a nod and a smile. Viktor nods back, passing him by as he steps back into the hallway.

__

A banging on his door thrusts Viktor out of his restless sleep and he slingshots out of bed, nearly tripping over his sheets and disrupting Makkachin who huffs and walks to the couch instead.

Viktor glances at his gun holster and back at the front door for a moment until a voice carries through the thick door and Viktor’s heartbeat speeds up.

“Viktor! Are you in there?” Yuuri’s voice calls out.

Viktor scrambles forward, only realizing that he’s hardly wearing anything at all when he pulls the door open. Yuuri’s hand is frozen in a knocking position and his eyes are wide, glancing over Viktor’s body, but trying to act like he isn’t.

“Yuuri, what’s going on?” Viktor asks, trying to blink away the bleariness in them, his body still heavy with sleep.

“Oh, did I wake you up?” Yuuri asks with a frown. “It’s three in the afternoon.”

Viktor waves away his concern and ushers him inside. As soon as Viktor closes the door and turns he can only watch as Yuuri tumbles backwards with Makkachin pushing down on his chest and licking at his face. The files Yuuri was carrying are splayed across the floor and Viktor immediately jumps in.

“Makkachin, no! Down!” he scolds, grabbing Makkachin’s collar and tugging him backward, despite his insistence. Yuuri’s hands are still scratching at Makkachin’s head and behind his ears, which only makes Makkachin tug harder against Viktor’s hold. Yuuri sits up, nodding to Viktor and letting Makkachin crawl into his lap and sniff at his face. Yuuri is laughing, his eyes closed in mirth and Viktor’s heart hammers.

Makkachin calms down after another moment and allows Yuuri to stand up and accept the files Viktor collected off the floor. “So, what did you want to talk to me about? It must be pretty urgent.”

Yuuri nods, setting the files down on the bartop counter beside the couch and flipping open the arson case. He sifts through the photos for another moment before he pulls one up and presses it into Viktor’s hand. “What—?”

“Look at the safe,” Yuuri says, and Viktor scans the photo before he sees that the safe in the closet is severely damaged, but also wide open. “How could the tenant have opened the safe if he wasn’t home.”

Viktor’s eyes are wide, his heart is slamming against his ribs and his skin is buzzing. This is something. “And guess what else I found,” Yuuri says, clearly giddy. Viktor looks up to meet his sparkling eyes  and waits. “The tenant is an art collector.”

“And he kept art in his safe,” Viktor whispers.

“ _One_ piece of art, to be specific, a painting. It was worth two million dollars, at the _lowest_ estimate.”

“And there were no ashes in the safe,” Viktor says, looking back up at Yuuri quickly, catching his bright grin and nod.

“Not enough to be a painting at least, but forensics is testing them just to be safe.”

“This is a lead.”

“This could be the first step in connecting all of these cases,” Yuuri adds, and Viktor can’t stop the fond smile that spreads over his lips as he looks over Yuuri’s face. This was _something_ , and he would be damned if he let go of it just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whooooookay here we are folks, welcome to my buddy-cop au, i have so much planned for this fic and i hope that you’ll come along on this ride with me! I’m really, really excited about this and all the things I have planned. More characters will come in next chapter and then we’ll really get the plot-ball rolling!! 
> 
> You can come find me and ask questions about this or just say hi on my [tumblr](https://v-k-niliforv.tumblr.com/) i swear i don’t bite! I also made a little sketch of viktor falling in love which you can find here: [sketch](https://v-k-niliforv.tumblr.com/post/160024310061/vita-brevis-chapter-1-it-takes-all-of-viktors) ((NEW TUMBLR IS [HERE](https://the-katuki-niliforv.tumblr.com/) ))
> 
> For any reference, dedushka/dedulya are two forms of the word for grandfather in Russian.
> 
> ((rating WILL change in future chapters, please be mindful, and more characters will be added as they are introduced as well as new tags, but I will always make warnings before chapters with new, potentially harmful tags, though there won't be many, I promise))
> 
> Okok i’ve talked enough, thank you so much for reading, if you have a minute and something to say please drop a comment and let me know how I’m doing so far!! If i’ve made any mistakes in the procedures or anything also feel free to let me know and I’ll do my best to address it!!! 
> 
> Have a great day and stay safe <3
> 
> ~JD
> 
> EDIT: for anyone who might be checking or just found this! Life got crazy but I am finally free! and graduated!! so i'll have much more time to write now, the next chapter should be up in a week or two! and then after that updates will be much more regular! Thanks for your patience and sticking with me T^T


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!! Thank you to everyone who commented on the first chapter and read/subscribed/bookmarked/left kudos, I am so, so grateful to each and every one of you!!  
> I had to deal with some personal stuff for a while, but I’m back, and updates should definitely be much more frequent from now moving forward! I have a lot of plans, and I’m excited to share them!!  
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter!! <3  
> Вкусно! - Delicious!/Tasty! (latinization approximation is Vkusno!)

Yuuri throws another shirt into the steadily growing pile on his bed with a frustrated groan. Phichit clambers through the door after a moment, leaning on the doorframe, and staring at Yuuri, who stands in just his pants and his undershirt. He frowns.

“Yuuri, what are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be at your new precinct soon?”

“None of my shirts look right.”

“Okay, that’s just a lie,” Phichit says, stepping fully into the room and inspecting the pile of discarded shirts on Yuuri’s bed. “ _I_ bought this one for you,” he adds, lifting a simple blue shirt up from the pile.

Yuuri shakes his head, biting at his thumb. His eyes sweep over his open closet and the shirts still left hanging there.

“They all look weird,” he says absently. Phichit wrinkles his nose and looks Yuuri over carefully.

“Yuuri, it’s just a shirt. What’s _actually_ bothering you?”

“It’s not _just_ a shirt, it’s a first impression!” Yuuri argues, pacing across the floor as Phichit perches on the edge of his bed and watches him silently. He feels Phichit’s eyes following him, scrutinizing him silently. He tries to ignore it.

“You work in a police station, how much are people _really_ paying attention to your shirt choices? Doesn’t your work speak for itself?” Phichit finally asks.

“But it’s a _new_ precinct, Phichit! No one knows me or what cases I’ve solved! I’ll just be...me.”

“What’s wrong with that? Plus, Yuuko will be there! And, anyway, you know that beat cop, right? The one who’s also named Yuri. Doesn’t he work at the sixth?” Phichit moves to lay more comfortably across the soft bedding and half-heartedly picks through the assorted pile of shirts Yuuri has left there as he speaks. Yuuri shrugs with a loud sigh.

“Well, sure, but it’s not like I’ll be working with Yuri often enough for that to matter. And Yuuko is a Lieutenant, she’s my superior officer and won’t be working very many cases, anyway.” Yuuri glances longingly at his closet, as if his desperation will make the perfect shirt appear before him all on its own. Phichit observes him for a prolonged moment before he pushes himself off the bed and saunters to Yuuri’s closet.

“Alright, let me see what I can do,” he says flippantly, sorting through the shirts still hanging neatly in Yuuri’s closet and wrinkling his nose at most of them. After a moment, a thought seems to occur to him and he pauses, one hand loosely wrapped around the sleeve of an unflattering shirt at the back of Yuuri’s closet. “Hey, Yuuri?” he asks, voice lilting and mischievous and Yuuri stiffens, his shoulders tensing.

When he doesn’t answer, Phichit leans out of the closet with a poorly concealed smirk on his lips as his eyes sweep over Yuuri slowly. “Doesn’t Viktor Nikiforov work at the sixth precinct?”

When Yuuri jolts and looks away he knows that he’s been caught, but he desperately hopes that the blush will leave his cheeks if he actively wills it to.

“Does he? How interesting, I hadn’t even thought about it,” he mumbles, unconvincing and fully aware of it. Phichit’s grin widens, clearly aware that he has the upper hand in the conversation. He stalks forward, making Yuuri back up until he trips and stumbles backward onto his bed.

“He _does_ . Oh, this makes so much more sense now. You only care about your shirt because _Viktor_ will be there. I knew it was always more than just professional admiration, Yuuri,” Phichit muses, a proud grin on his lips and a piercing gaze that makes Yuuri’s throat feel dry.

“Phichit, please, it _is_ just professional admiration. He’s a good cop, that’s all,” Yuuri says, voice still somewhat strained. Phichit smirks, rolling his eyes as he dives back into Yuuri’s closet, hoping he overlooked some hidden gem.

“Yeah, and you’re _just_ a good shot, I’m _just_ a hot piece of ass, and Guang-Hong and Leo are _just_ friends,” he replies, his voice slightly muffled by the shirts he sorts through. Yuuri groans, a pang of stinging heat radiating through his chest for a moment before he can push it back, ignore it, try to forget about it. He runs a hand through his hair for the fifth time in as many minutes. He needs to leave soon if he’s going to make it to the new precinct on time. Phichit emerges from Yuuri’s closet a moment later, empty handed, and walks straight to Yuuri’s bed.

Yuuri frowns as his friend picks through the pile of discarded shirts, and pulls up the blue one he had given Yuuri as a gift for his last birthday. “Just wear this one. It _doesn’t_ look weird on you. You look good in blue. Besides, it really accentuates your shoulders.”

“Phichit, I’m not sure if—”

“You have _very_ nice shoulders, Yuuri,” Phichit continues, as if Yuuri had never spoken at all, and shoves the shirt into his hands without hesitation. “Put that on, and I’ll grab one of my ties.”

“What’s wrong with—?”

“If you’re going to ask me what’s wrong with the only tie that you own, then please spare me, and take a _good look_ at that thing,” Phichit says as he bounds back through Yuuri’s door and down the hall to his own room. Yuuri sighs, glaring at the shirt in question before giving in and slipping his arms through the sleeves. He’s almost finished buttoning it up when Phichit returns with a simple, slim black tie and hangs it around Yuuri’s neck lightly.

“My tie really isn’t that bad, you’re overreacting,” Yuuri mumbles, knotting the tie Phichit gave him and adjusting his collar.

“I’m really not,” Phichit responds as he gives Yuuri a once over and nods with a big, bright grin. “You’re gonna charm Viktor Nikiforov’s pants right off as soon as he sees you.”

“ _Phichit!_ ”

__

Yuuri feels a smile tug at his lips as soon as he walks through the doors of the 6th. Yuri sits at a desk near the entrance, scowling at his desk as a pen flies over his paperwork rather aggressively. Yuuri approaches with a subtle air of caution and braces himself before he leans down into Yuri’s line of sight. Yuri flinches before he scowl deepens. Despite that, Yuuri can almost swear that Yuri looks happy to see him, but that might just be wishful thinking on his part.

“Ugh, it’s you,” he says. Yuuri smirks.

“It’s nice to see you, too, Officer Plisetsky.”

Yuri actively ignores his response as he leans back in his chair and gives Yuuri a quick once over, tapping his pen against his cheek. He’s restless.

“What are you doing here? Does the Deputy Chief need something?”

“What? I...I don’t think so?” Yuuri asks, tilting his head to the side. Had Minako told him to bring something over on his first day? Is he supposed to give something to Captain Feltsman?

“Then why are you here?” Yuri asks again, drawing Yuuri’s attention back down to him and out of his own thoughts.

“I’ve been transferred here,” Yuuri says, because it’s the obvious answer, right? Why else would he be here? Yuri looks shocked for a split-second before he shakes his head and glowers down at his desk.

“Great, just what this precinct needed. Another cocky, hot-shot detective.”

Yuuri can’t hold back a startled laugh at Yuri’s statement, and it only seems to anger him even more, but Yuuri just can’t stop laughing. _Him_ ? A _hot-shot_ ? How had Yuri even _come_ to such a ridiculous conclusion? “Stop laughing, you damn pig!”

Yuuri’s sides ache and he leans on Yuri’s desk, much to the other officer’s obvious chagrin as he stands up and shouts. Yuuri tries, with little success, to quell his own laughter. “What the hell is so damn funny, anyway?” Yuri demands.

“You think I’m a ‘hot-shot,’” Yuuri answers, and Yuri’s face twists in confusion. “Or you think that _I_ think I’m some kind of hot-shot. Either way,” he continues, breaking off into another breathless laugh.

Yuri flops back into his seat with an angry grumble and looks back down at his paperwork dismissively.

“You don’t even _know_ ,” he huffs. “You’re such a moron, Katsuki.”

Yuuri is about to ask what _that’s_ supposed to mean when he hears someone calling him and looks up only to see Yuuko waving him over. Yuuri sends another questioning glance at Yuri before approaching Yuuko. It’s only when he’s halfway there that he notices the man sitting at Yuuko’s desk and staring him down. It’s _Viktor Nikiforov_ . Yuuri wasn’t prepared to see him _this_ early on, he thought he would have more time to prepare.

His heart squeezes and twists in his chest, but he tries to stay calm, act cool and collected. He can’t go around blurting out things about how inspiring Viktor is, or how his police work helped convince Yuuri to join the academy, or how Yuuri may or may not have a newspaper clipping about Viktor’s first case as a detective in the third drawer of his desk at home. No way. He is calm. He is collected.

But Viktor’s eyes are _so blue_ . Yuuri never thought eyes could _be_ that color, they are absolutely captivating, and Yuuri wants to just _get lost_ in them.

He shakes his head and looks at Yuuko pointedly. If he looks at Viktor, he’ll do something stupid. Or say something stupid. Either way, he’s just not going to look at Viktor. It’ll be easy. How often would he _really_ run into Viktor anyway? Realistically, probably not a lot. It will be _totally_ fine.

His resolve breaks as he makes it to Yuuko’s desk and his eyes flick down to Viktor only to snap back to Yuuko a moment later. How can someone look so suave and so exhausted at the same time? How can he possibly still be attractive with those bags under his eyes?

Has he already mentioned how blue Viktor Nikiforov’s eyes are?

Yuuri is ready to combust when Yuuko grabs him in a tight hug. He looks at the lame posters behind Yuuko’s desk in a poor attempt to keep himself from looking at Viktor. She has a new one with a sad-looking kitten on it surrounded by thick white smoke.

“It’s so good to see you again!” she says, squeezing Yuuri’s shoulders and drawing his attention to her before pulling back and looking over his face with a gleaming smile and a worrisome glint in her eyes. “This is Detective Viktor Nikiforov,” she says, gesturing to Viktor like Yuuri doesn’t already know exactly who he is. “Your new partner.”

Yuuri chokes, eyes snapping to Viktor’s and all of his breath escapes in a shocked whoosh. Viktor is staring at him and Yuuri is staring back. He forgets how to breathe for a moment and his vision is blurring a little bit around the edges. He _has_ to have misheard, right? Yuuko can’t have said that he and Viktor are going to be partners because that would be ridiculous. Viktor is a _highly_ decorated detective, he’s _amazing_ , and Yuuri is just _Yuuri_ . There _must_ be some kind of mistake.

Viktor’s eyes break away from Yuuri’s to travel over his face and Yuuri suddenly thinks that this might be an okay way to die as the air gets thinner and the room gets hotter. Death by Viktor Nikiforov’s intense gaze. That sounds alright.

His skin feels like it’s simmering as Viktor continues to look at him, freezing him in place. His mouth is stuffed full of cotton and his heart is slamming against his ribs so loudly that he nearly forgets that there’s anything else around them. There is nothing but a void surrounding Yuuko’s desk for just a moment before Viktor jumps to his feet and sticks his hand out with a bright, beautiful smile. Yuuri gasps, air flooding into his lungs like a burst dam. Does Viktor know what he’s _doing_ to Yuuri? Yuuri hopes not. He reaches out to take Viktor’s hand, trying his best to school his features and look relatively normal.

“It’s great to meet you, I look forward to our partnership,” Viktor says. He sounds excited. And tired. Yuuri is going to pass out. He clears his throat as he shakes Viktor’s hand.

“Uh—Yeah! I’m also...looking forward to that,” he says. He’s so frazzled, Viktor will surely notice. Now that Yuuri has allowed himself to look at him, he can’t seem to pull his eyes away from Viktor and he starts to get lost again. But something tugs at Yuuri’s mind and he pauses.

Viktor is gorgeous, that’s just a fact. But somehow he looks duller, muted. Yuuri’s eyes dance over the dark bags under his eyes. He wonders how much sleep he’s been getting. His cheeks are sunken, eyes a little hollow. Has he been eating? When Viktor pulls away and releases his hold on Yuuri, Yuuri can feel his hand shaking. It’s faint, but Yuuri doesn’t miss it. He furrows his brow as he lets himself look at Viktor again, all giddiness and nerves forgotten. For the first time, he sees it.

Viktor Nikiforov looks like a broken man.

__

Yuuri sifts through the box of evidence that the Fire Commissioner brought over half-heartedly, eyes flicking over each neatly bagged item. His mind wanders as the sun begins to sink below the city-scape and leaves a warm orange glow across the precinct.

Viktor looked so shocked when Yuuri shouted at him in the scorched apartment. Yuuri remembers the shattered expression on his face, as if he could be utterly undone with just a gentle breeze. He looked guarded and fragile, staring at Yuuri as if daring him to deal the final blow. The smell of singed wallpaper and melted plastic permeates his memory, consuming his senses as if the smell of an old fire and Viktor’s brittle resolve were already intricately connected in that moment.

Yuuri sighs, leaning his elbows on his desk and pressing his face into his hands.

He always thought that Viktor Nikiforov was _untouchable_ , but now that he’s met him he has no idea what to think. Viktor looks weathered and damaged and defeated all the time. He wears a million masks, and plays off his pain so easily that it’s clear to Yuuri that he’s been doing it for a long time. He’s closed off, and no matter how hard Yuuri might stare into his eyes, he never budges. His defenses never waver, and it’s frustrating. The only glimpse Yuuri had was in the apartment, and now it seems like Viktor has put up even more walls.

He tries to cover everything up with a smile, and pretends that there’s nothing wrong with him, and it makes Yuuri’s stomach twist. He pulls his face away from his hands and looks down at the numbers Viktor had scrawled across a napkin that had been sitting at the corner of Yuuri’s desk. Yuuri grabs it and looks over it with a sigh. There’s obviously something bigger going on with Viktor that Yuuri isn’t privy to, and he wants to dig until he finds out what it is.

He shakes his head. He needs to focus.

Yuuri sets the napkin down beside his phone and picks up the file he requested earlier in the day again. He scans the report and nods along to the information he already knows. He isn’t sure how it fits, but he has a feeling deep in his gut that he’s onto something. He lifts the evidence bag from the torched apartment with a burned slip of paper inside and scans it, trying to find something he missed the other dozen times he looked it over.

The only things on the paper are two kisses in lipstick. One is purple and the other red. Yuuri knew the signature as soon as he saw the note, as soon as he confirmed his hunch, but something just feels...off about it. It looks normal, just like all the others, but Yuuri’s mind can’t let it go. Something is wrong with this. What would the signature of two international art thieves be doing in a burned apartment in Detroit? Why would they have burned down anything, much less a _barber shop_?

Something strikes a chord and Yuuri jumps as he pulls up the files that the fire department had brought with the evidence. He sifts through each photograph until his eyes are burning and all the sunlight has disappeared beneath the horizon. Adrenaline courses through his veins, a bolt of lightning shocking his nerves into overdrive.

He finds what he’s looking for just as a hand on his shoulder jolts him out of his seat. He turns to find Yuuko smiling at him.

“You should go home, Yuuri. The night shift is coming in, and you should get some rest,” she says. Yuuri grimaces, looking down at the picture in his hand and back to Yuuko. “You know I’m right. Sleep, and get your thoughts in order. You and Viktor can go over everything you’ve found on Wednesday.”

She leans down to help Yuuri reorganize his desk and close all the files he has open.

“Where is he going to be tomorrow, anyway? Does he have another case or something?”

Yuuko laughs as she shakes her head. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes and Yuuri’s stomach drops.

“The Captain is making him take tomorrow off, to rest.”

Yuuri is silent for another minute as he finishes clearing his desk off, but the look on his face must convey his thoughts well enough because Yuuko’s shoulders slump. “He hasn’t taken a day off in a few weeks. Not since...well anyway, you’ve seen him. He clearly needs a nap.” She tries to make him laugh, but they both know it won’t happen in such a heavy atmosphere. “Get home and rest, Yuuri. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Yuuri nods, watching Yuuko leave. He has so many questions, but it’s not the right time, not the right person. Viktor should be the one to tell him about his past. Yuuri already has a good enough guess as to what incident Yuuko was referring to, anyway.

With that thought in mind, Yuuri grabs his coat and leaves the precinct, a chilly breeze biting at his cheeks as he walks home under flickering streetlamps.

__

“Wait, okay, hold on, he tried to _kiss_ you?” Phichit asks, interrupting Yuuri’s retelling of his first day at the 6th precinct over dinner. Yuuri blinks a few times before shrugging, looking down at his half-eaten meal.

“I mean it was just my cheek,” he says quickly, looking away from Phichit as his best friend beams. “He was just excited that I noticed the similarities in the cases.”

“I’ve been excited a lot of times, but I’ve never tried to kiss someone I just met because of it.”

“It didn’t mean anything, seriously. He looked super tired, too, so he probably wasn’t thinking completely clearly anyway.”

Phichit leans in and sets his empty plate down on the ottoman before getting closer to Yuuri.

“You mentioned that he looks pretty worn down, right? What’s up with that, anyway? And _also_ , you hardly seem as excited as I thought you would be. You’re partnered with _Viktor Nikiforov_ , isn’t this all of your dreams from the academy coming to life?”

“It’s nothing, Phichit, he’s just...different than I expected.”

“Different how?” Phichit presses. His eyes are glistening and Yuuri’s resolve breaks.

“He’s just...he looks lost all the time, and broken. I don’t know, I just always thought he would be this huge, overwhelming presence. And I mean, he _is_ those things, it just…seems like half of it is all for show, you know?”

Phichit leans back, tapping his cheek in contemplation as he starts to nod.

“Yeah, I think I get what you’re saying. Do you know why?”

Yuuri shrugs, giving up on finishing his meal and setting his plate down beside Phichit’s. He leans back into the couch and runs a hand down his face.

“I don’t know, maybe? I know that his last partner was seriously injured while they were working a case together a couple weeks ago. I think it’s been almost a month now. As far as I know, Detective Giacometti has been relieved of duty indefinitely, but it could be something else.”

Phichit grimaces and leans back against the couch beside Yuuri.

“That sounds like it could definitely be it. You don’t think so?”

Yuuri shakes his head, trying to find the right words.

“I just...I think it’s _more_ that that.”

Phichit watches him for a while, just observing as Yuuri’s eyes droop and he tries not to think about the way Viktor talks about those cold cases, or the way his eyes sparkled for just a second as he leaned in to kiss Yuuri’s cheek before he looked away.

“Do you think this is one of those ‘don’t meet your heroes’ moments?” Phichit finally asks, his tone cautious. Yuuri considers it. His concept of Viktor before today was close to deifying, going along with the way the local media portrays him and the cases he solves. Detective Viktor Nikiforov, legendary officer, local hero five times over, with the highest arrest record in the DPD. Before today, Yuuri thought of Viktor as this untouchable, inhuman being, this utterly perfect cop.

He certainly doesn’t think that anymore, but it’s hard for him to even consider it a bad thing. After letting his thoughts simmer through the day, Yuuri thinks that he might be glad they met. Viktor is stubborn and blunt and cracked and perhaps a bit jaded. He’s breathtakingly human.

Finally, Yuuri shakes his head, looking up at their ugly popcorn ceiling as he speaks.

“No...I don’t think it is.”

__

Yuuri runs both hands through his hair and sets his arms against his desk after he hangs up his phone. The precinct bustles around him, muted and quiet. He isn’t sure if it’s just his perception or if the building really is just that quiet, but he decides not to question it.

The fire department brought the tenant in for further questioning, but they still haven’t made an arrest yet. He and Viktor need to make a strong case, and fast, if they want to keep the wrong man from going to prison.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Yuuri sits up and turns around to find Yuri staring at him. It could probably be considered glaring, actually.

“I...the tenant is an art collector,” he says softly. Yuri scowls.

“What?”

“I just called the Fire Commissioner, he said that the tenant is an art collector, and he kept a painting in his—!”

“I heard what you _said_ , Katsuki, it just doesn’t make any _sense_. What tenant? Are you sleep deprived or something?”

“Oh! It’s—the arson case that I’m working on with, um, Detective Nikiforov. The tenant in the apartment above the barber shop. He collects art, and he had a really expensive painting in his safe, but...the safe,” Yuuri explains, pulling up the photograph of the slightly scorched and wide open safe for Yuri to look at. “It was empty when the fire department arrived.”

“Grand larceny,” Yuri whispers as his eyes widen and Yuuri nods. Yuri tosses the photo back onto Yuuri’s desk with a growl. “How the _fuck_ could he have made that connection?” he snaps as he turns away from Yuuri and prowls back to his own desk. Yuuri smiles after him, he kind of gets it. Viktor really is an amazing detective. How is he supposed to measure up to that? Viktor had a crime scene and whatever information the fire department would give him and he managed to make a possible connection to six cold cases from the 70’s, which had previously not even been connected to each _other_.

Yuuri sighs, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes for a moment. He’s gathered all of this information, but he can’t do anything without Viktor, he isn’t even sure if he’s going in the right direction. He can’t just sit around the precinct all day, can he?

His leg starts bouncing as he tries to think of other tasks he could be doing. He doesn’t have any other cases he can work on yet, and his current one is completely stalled. He glances at his phone. Viktor said to call him if he found anything, right?

Yuuri sucks on the inside of his cheek as he considers it. Finally, he lifts his phone before he can convince himself not to. He dials the numbers Viktor left for him and waits as it rings.

When the line clicks, Yuuri holds his breath.

_“This is Viktor, I can’t take your call right now, but leave me a message and I’ll get back to you when I can.”_

Yuuri hangs up quickly, before he can accidentally leave a message of his breathing.

Before he has time to second guess his actions, Yuuri stands and collects the arson file, tucking it neatly and inconspicuously away in his bag before turning and making his way to Yuri.

“Where does Viktor live?” he asks once he’s close enough to whisper. Yuri jumps and stares at Yuuri like he asked him to kill someone.

“ _Why_ ? And also why do you think _I_ know that?”

“Well you guys are friends aren’t you?” Yuuri asks, frowning and tilting his head slightly. Yuri’s cheeks redden slightly and he just grabs his pen and starts to write again.

“We are _not_ friends.”

Yuuri is about to make another comment when a small slip of paper is shoved into his hands. “Don’t tell anyone that you got that from me, especially Viktor,” he warns. Yuuri nods, holding the paper tightly. “Why do you even want to know anyway?”

“I want to tell him about the case.”

“You seriously want to go across town to his apartment just to tell him that he’s right? I’m pretty sure he already _knows_ that, Katsuki.”

Yuuri shakes his head, looking down.

“I want to see if we can find anything else together, I feel like I’m still missing things.”

Yuri studies him for a moment before he rolls his eyes.

“Just go already, before I change my mind.”

Yuuri is out the door before Yuri even finishes speaking.

__

When Yuuri arrives, he paces outside of Viktor’s door, trying to convince himself that it’s a good idea. He already came all this way, he should just go for it, right? He should just knock on the door. It’s fine, this will be fine. He just has to knock.

Yuuri spends another half hour trying to build up the courage to just _knock already_. He tangles his fingers in his hair before shaking his head, stepping up to the door and banging on it.

There’s no answer and his stomach starts to twist. Viktor is supposed to be here, right? He shouldn’t be at the precinct or anything, that’s what Yuuko said.

“Viktor! Are you in there?” he calls. There’s a thump from inside and Yuuri reaches into his bag to retrieve the case files so he can show Viktor right away.

All the words abandon Yuuri’s mind once the door opens, and his tongue grows dry. Viktor stands in the doorway rubbing sleep from his eyes and wearing a tiny pair of underwear that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination and just barely cover anything important. Yuuri is going to die, and it’s going to be Viktor’s fault.

He needs to stop staring, Viktor’s going to notice. He needs to just look up at his face before he explodes. Definitely. He needs to stop. He can do that. He can.

“Yuuri, what’s going on?” Viktor asks, still blinking blearily and looking at Yuuri expectantly. Yuuri frowns.

“Oh, did I wake you up?” He glances down at his watch, then back up to Viktor. “It’s three in the afternoon.”

Viktor waves him away in a vague hand motion before opening his door wider and turning to walk further into the apartment without looking back at Yuuri.

 _Don’t look at his ass_ , Yuuri thinks, already failing to do so. He also fails to notice the poodle bounding toward him until he’s crashing to the floor with two paws pressing into his shoulders and slobbery kisses being left across his face. Yuuri laughs. Viktor tries to pull the dog back, but he pushes forward anyway. Yuuri lets him, scratching his ears and head. He can see Viktor collecting the folders that were tossed haphazardly across the floor during his fall. When Yuuri is finally able to escape the dog’s, ‘Makkachin’ Viktor said a moment ago, assault, he stands and dusts himself off before being handed the files again.

The moment he shows what he’s found to Viktor, he can see Viktor’s eyes _light up_. He grins and it’s so genuine that Yuuri’s legs get a little weak at the sight.

“I wanted to go over everything with you and see if we can find anything else if we work together,” Yuuri says after a moment, trying to maintain eye contact.

“That sounds great! We can work on the couch,” Viktor says, ushering Yuuri forward. He moves to sit when Yuuri interrupts, eyes darting across the apartment instead of Viktor’s body.

“Um...do you...do you maybe want to put on some pants? Or something?”

Viktor looks down suddenly, as if he wasn’t aware that he was essentially naked this whole time.

“Oh, sure,” he says, nonchalant. Yuuri watches him retreat to a room down the hall and wishes that he could be that blasé about clothing and his body.

Viktor reemerges in a pair of loose sweatpants. He yawns and plops down into the couch, looking up at Yuuri imploringly. “Sit, let’s start looking everything over.”

“Right, yeah,” Yuuri says, shaking his head and sitting down beside Viktor and setting the files down on a low coffee table in front of the couch. Yuuri sets his hands in his lap as he watches Viktor sift through everything, eyes dancing across each file. He pauses as he’s about to set one of them down, lifting it back up to his line of sight and frowning slightly.

“Yuuri, what case is this?” he asks. Yuuri jolts and sits forward to look at the folder as Viktor flips through it.

“Oh! I, uh...I put in a request for it from the NYPD. It’s a case on a heist from The Met a few years back. The thieves stole six paintings in total, including a Degas and a few 16th century Spanish and Italian paintings,” Yuuri explains, swallowing past the growing lump in his throat at Viktor’s furrowed brow. “They left a piece of paper behind, with two kisses on it, in red and purple lipstick. The same signature was left at a handful of other scenes, mostly in Europe, but a few in America more recently.”

Viktor blinks a few times in complete silence, staring at Yuuri and pressing his lips together into a thin line.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure that I follow. It doesn’t sound like these thieves have ever been involved in grand larceny. What’s the connection?”

Yuuri nods, reaching over Viktor to grab the arson case file and pulls out a small evidence bag. The lipstick prints are visible through the plastic and Viktor’s back straightens.

“I was wondering the same thing when this was in the box of evidence the fire department sent over. I had a suspicion when we went to the apartment. The side table by the couch wasn’t too badly damaged, but even with that, there was a small patch that had almost no soot or ash on it either, which had to mean there was something on top when the fire department arrived. This confirmed my hunch, but...it still doesn’t make any sense,” Yuuri says, trailing off as Viktor nods beside him.

“Why would they revert to grand larceny when they already pulled off multiple heists worth twice as much or more as this one painting without being caught,” Viktor says.

“And why would they burn the place down and nearly ruin their signature when they’re clearly professionals, and very good ones at that.”

“Exactly. Professionals who wouldn’t just leave the safe open either. At the very least, they probably would have made it look like the painting burned with the rest of the building. It just doesn’t make any sense,” Viktor agrees, slowly reading each page of the NYPD police report. Yuuri only catches a glimpse of it for a moment, but he swears there’s a short flash of something close to excitement in Viktor’s eyes..

“And,” Yuuri says, drawing Viktor’s avid attention and trying not to get sidetracked by the thought. He points to the folder in Viktor’s hands and pulls out a photo of a similar slip of paper with lipstick prints to their own taped to a wall. “I don’t know if it’s the fire damage or something substantial, but I can’t help feeling like there’s something different about the signature. The colors seem...off somehow.”

Viktor nods. “I asked forensics to run a comparison on the lipstick and paper from the apartment and the NYPD forensics report,” Yuuri adds. Viktor smiles.

“This is very impressive work, Detective Katsuki.”

Yuuri’s heart is going to leap out of his chest, he’s sure of it.

“Thank you, but all the work that you already did helped quite a bit.”

Viktor shakes his head, scoffing softly.

“You’re giving me far too much credit here, Yuuri. You’ve done great work. You should be proud.”

Yuuri’s mouth won’t open and his words are getting stuck in his throat, so he just nods and smiles. They continue to look through the case files, asking questions and posing theories or comparing evidence. Yuuri hardly notices the time passing until the sun has already begun to set and his stomach growls. He glances at Viktor who keeps sifting through the files. His leg shifts every few seconds and his hands are still shaking. It isn’t as noticeable as the day before, but it’s still visible.

“Hey, Viktor?” Yuuri asks. Viktor hums, still looking at the table but giving some of his attention to Yuuri. “When’s the last time you had something substantial to eat?”

Viktor freezes, gulps, and sets down the folder he’s holding. His left hand is clenched at his side and he turns to gaze at Yuuri appraisingly. He looks a little embarrassed as he looks away again and shrugs one shoulder.

“A couple days, I think. At least, since I’ve had more than a protein bar or something.” Viktor grimaces as he admits this, avoiding Yuuri’s eyes like he’s waiting to be scolded. Yuuri’s stomach churns at this before he turns to glance at the kitchen and then back at Viktor.

“I...I could make something. I haven’t eaten since this morning,” he offers, like a peace offering. Viktor’s eyes widen before he turns to look at Yuuri. He looks like he doesn’t believe him. “I’m usually a pretty good cook. At least...that’s what my roommate says, and I don’t think he could lie for eight years about liking it.”

Viktor watches him for another long moment before he just nods and stands up.

“Sure. I have some food in the fridge, it should be enough to make something. I’m going to take Makka for a short walk while you do that.” He walks back down the hallway without giving Yuuri enough time to respond. Yuuri sighs.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket as he walks toward the kitchen and glances around the open space, taking in the spotless cookware and modern countertops. Viktor’s apartment doesn’t look like anyone lives in it, like a show-apartment meant to make potential buyers think about what the space _could_ look like.

Yuuri shakes his head as he opens his messaging app and types a quick text to Phichit. He feels a small pang of guilt bubble up in the pit of his stomach as he types. It’s Phichit’s last consecutive day off for the next week, and they usually spend these nights watching bad movies together. He just hopes that Phichit won’t be annoyed.

 **19:52 New Text to: Phichit** ****  
  
_ <Hey, I’ll be home late. Don’t wait for me for dinner.> _

Yuuri sets his phone down to pull the fridge open and inspect the ingredients he has to work with. He makes a soft sound of surprise as he takes in the varied contents.

“What?” Viktor asks, walking into the living room again and tilting his head curiously at Yuuri. Makkachin runs around Viktor’s legs excitedly and Yuuri can’t help but smile softly.

“I was expecting more take-out containers,” he answers when he meets Viktor’s gaze again. Viktor smirks.

“I do _know_ how to cook.”

Yuuri smirks at the teasing, indignant look on Viktor’s face and shrugs.

“You just choose not to, then?” he asks. Viktor’s laugh is breathy. He kneels down to hook a leash to Makkachin’s collar before smiling back to Yuuri. He almost looks guilty.

“Sometimes I just forget.”

Yuuri wants to ask how someone can just forget to eat, but he doesn’t. He watches Viktor pat his pockets to make sure he has his phone and his keys. He looks tired, worn out, a little sad. Yuuri doesn’t ask. He has a good enough guess.

Yuuri’s phone vibrates as Viktor is stepping out the door, and Yuuri has the sudden realization that he’s alone in Viktor Nikiforov’s apartment. He’s about to cook in Viktor Nikiforov’s kitchen, and serve that food to Viktor Nikiforov when he gets back from walking his dog. He grips the countertop tightly, his knuckles blanching slightly.

He’s just making food because they’re both hungry and Viktor clearly isn’t feeding himself properly. They’re partners, just working on a case and getting to know each other. That’s all. Yuuri rubs at his eyes under his glasses before lifting his phone.

 **20:03 New Text from: Phichit** ****  
  
_ <Boo!!! :( :( :( are you working late at the precinct? You can’t spend your whole life there Yuuri, you’re going to waste away!!!!> _

Yuuri smiles softly, shaking his head as he starts typing.

 **20:06 New Text to: Phichit** ****  
  
_ <No, I’m actually at Viktor’s. We were working on a case together.> _

Yuuri moves to set his phone down, but it buzzes almost instantly and he jumps.

 **20:06 New Text from: Phichit** ****  
  
_ <WHAT! YOU’RE INSIDE VIKTOR’S APARTMENT?? RIGHT NOW?? YUURI DID YOU HIT THAT?> _

His face heats up immediately.

 **20:07 New Text to: Phichit** ****  
  
_ <NO! NONONO! We’re just working on a case! That’s it! Totally 100% platonic> _

Yuuri tries to take a deep breath to calm himself down. Viktor is out of his league. Definitely. Even exhausted, underfed, and cracked around the edges. No matter what Phichit thinks, Yuuri doesn’t have any chance at all. Which is totally fine. Obviously. Because Yuuri is focused on his career and not on romance. And he definitely isn’t going to fall in love with his partner of all people, that would be disastrous. Definitely.

 **20:08 New Text from: Phichit** ****  
  
_ < >;} I’m not sure that I’m convinced. Go get ‘em, Yuuri! I’ll see you on Thursday! Don’t stay out too late ;) ;) ;)> _

Yuuri sets his phone face down on the counter with a touch more force than necessary, but he can’t bring himself to care. He’ll respond later. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down and goes back to Viktor’s fridge to figure out what to cook. Fajitas are good, right? People like fajitas. It’s simple, and he won’t seem like he’s trying too hard. Which he’s not, of course, because he’s not interested in Viktor and Viktor isn’t interested in him. They’re not even friends, barely acquaintances. Colleagues. That’s it.

Yuuri is still prepping when Viktor walks back through the front door with a happily panting Makkachin in tow.

“Oh, that looks exciting, what are you making?” he asks from the door as he slips his coat off and hangs it on a coat rack that Yuuri had previously suspected was an awkwardly placed chair. Yuuri looks back to the pepper he’s slicing.

“Fajitas,” he says. “There was some good meat for it, and these peppers probably won’t be good to eat for very much longer.”

Viktor nods as he moved into the kitchen and leans against a barstool on the other side of the island. Now he’s blessedly still wearing a shirt, so Yuuri doesn’t have any distractions to deal with aside from his face. Yuuri’s shoulders relax as he cuts the rest of the peppers and onions and moves to season the meat.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Viktor asks after they spend a while in companionable, if a little awkward on Yuuri’s part, silence. Yuuri looks from Viktor to the meat that he’s cooking and frowns.

“I think I’m—actually, would you get some plates down? I’m almost done.”

Viktor nods and stands. He moves like a dancer, ethereal and light. He sets two plates down on the bar. “So,” Yuuri begins, finishing cooking and moving the meat and vegetables to one dish before setting everything out on the bartop. “Do you think we have enough to keep the fire department from arresting the tenant?”

Viktor nods absently, looking at the food Yuuri sets out with gratitude.

“Definitely, but I would like to talk to the tenant tomorrow if we can. I want to know why he didn’t mention the painting he kept in the apartment. It seems suspicious.”

“I agree,” Yuuri says, moving slowly to the stool beside Viktor and tentatively sitting down. “I think that he’ll be able to tell us a lot and shed some light on a few of the things we don’t have answers for.”

Viktor nods and reaches out to serve himself with a tiny smile.

“Hey, Yuuri?” he asks, voice soft and a little cracked. Yuuri looks over at him and nods, following his lead and serving himself. Viktor doesn’t meet his eyes as he speaks, just looking down at his plate with an emotion that looks oddly close to reverence. “Thanks.”

“Um...yeah. You’re welcome,” Yuuri answers, tension dancing across his skin like raindrops. He isn’t sure why Viktor is thanking him, exactly. The meal? The work on the case? But he doesn’t want to break the fragile tranquility of the room so he doesn’t say anything else. When Viktor takes his first bite, Yuuri is startled by his voice as Viktor stares at his food with a beaming grin and then looks at Yuuri.

“Вкусно!” he says. Yuuri thinks that’s Russian, but he isn’t sure what it means. It seems like it’s a good thing, though, so he just smiles back as Viktor takes another bite.

__

The tenant fiddles with his fingers nervously and glances around the interrogation room. He’s sweating and biting at his lip as he glances between Viktor and Yuuri. Viktor sets out the case file for the fire slowly, purposefully.

“Yuuto Omiki, correct?” Viktor asks, his voice low and commanding. Yuuto squeaks softly at the sound and nods quickly. “Where were you on the night of the fire?”

Yuuto’s shoulders hunch and he looks down at the table.

“I already told the firemen everything I know,” he says. Viktor smiles, and it looks dangerous.

“Just tell me again, jog my memory.”

“I was at an art auction across town until close to midnight,” he says. He avoids Yuuri’s eyes every time he glances up and Yuuri frowns.

“Great. So, tell me, Mr. Omiki, why didn’t you tell the fire department about the painting you kept in the apartment when they first questioned you about the fire and any belongings you may have lost in it?”

Yuuto sighs and looks at his hands before he speaks softly.

“I just didn’t think it was important.”

“A painting worth millions of dollars, and you didn’t think it was important enough to report? It was important enough for you to keep it in a high-end safe,” Viktor points out. Yuuto’s fingers squeeze together and his shoulders hunch and it finally clicks.

“You knew this was going to happen,” Yuuri says suddenly. “Didn’t you?”

Yuuto’s eyes widen and his breath audibly hitches. There it is. “According to the report, you told the fire department that the apartment above the barber shop was the _only_ place that you could live. Detroit’s a big city, so why there?”

Yuuto is silent for a few tense moments and Viktor shifts to lean back in his chair, breaking the quiet in the room and making Yuuto jump.

“It’ll be easier if you just tell us.”

Yuuto fidgets and twists in his seat, glancing at the door periodically as if he thinks he can get past two police officers and escape if he tries hard enough. Yuuri crosses his arms and waits, catching his eyes every few moments. Finally, Yuuto sighs.

“Mr. Davis offered me protection in exchange for high rent on the apartment above his barbershop.”

“Protection?” Viktor asks, leaning forward in interest. Yuuto just nods.

“I’ve had art thieves try to steal that painting for a while now. Mr. Davis promised to protect me and the painting from thieves if I paid a frankly ridiculous rate for the apartment. I figured in the end it would be worth it. A lot of good it all did me, though.”

“How did he protect you, exactly?”

“He had a security system installed throughout the building and a camera, too. He also told people that he only had a storage unit above the shop. Almost no one knew about the apartment at all, or they thought that he remade the old apartment into a storage space.”

Yuuri nodded, leaning forward and setting his elbows on the table.

“The report also says that Mr. Davis has been consistently raising your rent recently, is there a reason for that?” he asks.

“Well...there was an issue about two months ago,” Yuuto says reluctantly. “Someone broke into the apartment and disabled the alarm system. My window was broken, and it was clear that they had tried to crack my safe, but I got home before they could. They probably left when they heard me. Mr. Davis said that someone was clearly onto me and raised my rent. He installed a new system and I bought a new safe, but…”

“And you never thought to report the break-in?” Viktor asks. Yuuto scoffs.

“That would just draw more attention to myself. I wanted the fewest people possible to know about the painting, if the police were involved that would be impossible.”

“Do you have any idea who the thieves were?” Yuuri asks. Yuuto shrugs.

“There are a few possibilities,” he says. Yuuri nods. That’s better than nothing, at least now they might have a few leads. He reaches for the kiss-marked paper in the file after a moment and holds it tentatively. The lab work would be a while longer, but there was no reason not to ask, right?

“Are you familiar with the thieves who leave these after every heist?” he asks, sliding the evidence bag across the table for Yuuto to see. He looks at it for a moment before his head snaps up and looks straight into Yuuri’s eyes for the first time since the interrogation started.

“Of course I am, every art collector is.”

“Would they happen to be on your list of potential thieves?” Yuuri asks, his body thrumming with excitement and anticipation. Yuuto laughs, sliding the evidence bag back over to Yuuri and Viktor.

“Absolutely not, they wouldn’t waste their time. I doubt my painting was even on their radar.”

Yuuri smiles, glancing to Viktor with unhindered brightness. Viktor matches it with a thrill in his eyes that Yuuri has never seen before. It’s not a lot, but it’s something.

“I thought you might say that,” Yuuri says as he looks back to Yuuto. “Thank you for your time. Before you go, would you mind giving us that list of possible thieves?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much again for reading!! If you have a moment and something to say please leave me a comment and let me know how I’m doing!!  
> Come talk to me on [tumblr](https://v-k-niliforv.tumblr.com/) @v-k-niliforv !!!  
> ((JK PLEASE DO IT [HERE](https://the-katuki-niliforv.tumblr.com/) I AM NO LONGER ABLE TO ACCESS THAT OTHER TUMBLR))  
> Have a good, safe day!  
> ~JD


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey howdy hey!! Here we are again!! I’m sorry to say that this chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but I promise the next one will be longer and action packed! We’re also getting more into the plot and deeper in the case here, so starting from now the story should move along a bit faster!  
> I’ll be gone for a trip this coming weekend and most of next week, but I should still have chapter 4 out relatively soon :)  
> I hope you enjoy the chapter! Happy reading <3

“Hey, I just got the forensics back on the paper from the apartment,” Yuuri says as he sidles up the Viktor’s desk. Viktor looks up from the scattered paper of three cold case files to meet Yuuri’s gaze. It takes his eyes a little longer than he would like to admit to focus. 

“And?” he asks. He knows he sounds tired, but he just hopes that Yuuri won’t mention it. Yuuri stares at him for a long moment before he speaks. 

“Not a match. Different brand and color of lipstick. Plus the paper was wrong, too. It was definitely imposters, just like we thought.” 

Viktor’s heart flutters with excitement and he can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips. 

“That explains why they burned the place down then; covering up the evidence,” he says, rubbing his hands over his face with a gusty sigh in the hopes of waking himself up more. He knows that if he doesn’t get more sleep he’ll probably pass out and get lectured by half the precinct, but there was finally something to the case. He wasn’t just desperate to make a new breakthrough, they  _ had something _ . 

When he looks up again, Yuuri is staring down at him disapprovingly. He purses his lips, and his striking eyes dart over Viktor’s face hypnotizingly. 

“It doesn’t explain why they tried to set up the Kissing Thieves in the first place, though,” Yuuri says as his eyes break away from Viktor and look down at the forensics report. Viktor nods. 

“If they didn’t have the skill to set up a perfect impersonation, then why bother in the first place?” Viktor says. Yuuri nods. 

“Exactly.” Yuuri rolls his shoulders and sets the report down on his desk. “Something doesn’t feel right with this.” 

Viktor allows himself a fleeting moment to look over Yuuri’s arms, his strong shoulders. Yuuri always seems to be more graceful when he’s focused, seemingly able to completely forget his tendency to fluster at Viktor’s lingering glances. When Yuuri is focused, he gains a dangerous edge, and Viktor only feels more intrigued. 

Viktor drags his eyes away and looks down at the scattered papers under his hands again. 

“I agree,” he says finally. “It almost feels too simple.” 

Yuuri doesn’t answer, but Viktor knows that he agrees. A convenient list of art thieves, all of whom have been spotted near the Detroit area in the last three months. It wasn’t that Viktor didn’t trust Yuuto Omiki, but...he did seem rather evasive. For him to suddenly be willing to give them this much information was suspicious. 

They need to inform the fire department of everything they learned, but the sun set hours ago, and if he stays much later, he’s sure that Yakov will have his head. Yuuri might, too, for that matter. If the surreptitious looks he keeps sending in Viktor’s direction are anything to go by, anyway. “Tomorrow morning we should take all of our new evidence to the Fire Commissioner. Any extra help we can get on this case, the better. I have a feeling it’s going to be a lot more complicated than it seems.” Even as he says this, Viktor can’t quell the soft rumbling of excitement deep in his gut. 

Yuuri nods once and looks back at his own desk. His eyes seem to catch on his gun and Viktor’s mind sparks with curiosity. 

“I think that’s a good idea,” he says finally. “You should go home.” 

Viktor doesn’t respond immediately as he taps his fingers on his desk rhythmically. He knows that Yuuri is right, because his head is aching, and he’s still kind of dizzy, but there’s so much work they still need to do. This case is so far from being done, and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to sleep with that hanging over him. He’s about to respond when Yakov’s office door swings open and he holds his breath. 

Yakov’s eyes zero in on him immediately and he nods his head toward the office. 

“Nikiforov. Get in here.” 

Viktor stands, smiling to Yuuri as he passes. Yuuri frowns as he watches Viktor go, but Viktor tries not to think about it too much. When Yakov’s door clicks shut behind him, he feels the overwhelming silence draw him in. 

Yakov is leaning against his desk looking worn and tired. He looks older and Viktor’s stomach tugs and churns with dull, bubbling guilt. “You’re still not sleeping.” It’s not a question, so Viktor doesn’t answer. 

Viktor feels Yakov’s gaze on his skin, prickling and sharp and hot, but he tries not to respond and sits in one of the chairs in front of Yakov’s desk. “Is this case going to be a problem for you?” he asks after a long moment. Viktor jerks and looks up at that. 

“Why would it—?” 

“Your tendency to dive headfirst into any lead you get with no regard for your health is troubling on a good day, Vitya. With your health in the state that it is, I don’t want any more problems than you’ve already had. Am I understood?” 

“Of course, Captain,” Viktor says, all false cheer and masks. Yakov levels him with a steady glare and Viktor sighs, slouching slightly. “I won’t go too far.” 

Yakov just nods and they sit in a mellow silence for a few minutes. 

“How has Katsuki been? The Deputy Chief sent over his file, and he’s very impressive, but what do you think about him?” 

Viktor smiles, Yuuri is an easy topic of conversation. 

“I think he’s an excellent detective. A little lacking in his confidence in his work, but otherwise he’s an excellent cop. He’s the one who connected the cases.” 

Yakov nods.

“Yura told me about that. He’s also much more respectful to his superiors than you are.” 

Viktor just grins down at his hands at that. Yakov sighs after another moment, a loud, gusty sound that brings Viktor’s attention up to him. Yakov doesn’t look like a police captain in that moment. He looks like a worried parent, and Viktor can’t roll off the heavy feeling in his shoulders no matter how many times he tries. Yakov’s voice makes him jump. 

“You should get to the hospital if you’re still planning on visiting Detective Giacometti. Visiting hours will be ending soon.” 

His heart skips, and Viktor leaves the precinct without preamble, feeling a little lighter than he had when he walked in. 

__

“Cutting it close, aren’t you, Viktor?” Chris leers as Viktor walks into the dimly lit room. Chris smiles at him from the bed, glasses a little low on the bridge of his nose. Matthieu sits at Chris’ other side and smiles up at Viktor as he enters. 

“Had a break in the arson case,” Viktor says without further explanation. Chris’ smile widens and his eyes lock with Viktor’s.

“Tell me everything.” 

Viktor doesn’t argue as he sits in the open chair beside Chris and regales his and Yuuri’s discoveries. When he looks up again, Chris’ smile is soft and Viktor’s breath catches in his throat as he sees it. 

“What?” he asks after a long, silent moment, cutting himself off in the middle of another story. He can see Matthieu holding back laughter quite poorly and feels a bit lost. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk that much about another person,” Chris says and Viktor frowns, furrowing his brow. “This new partner of yours must really be something, am I right?” 

Viktor’s laugh is a little more self-deprecating than he thought it would be as he runs a hand through his hair nervously and pointedly avoids Chris’ gaze. 

“Yeah,” he finally says to the floor. “He is.” 

“I have to admit, I was a little worried,” Chris says when Viktor doesn’t say any more. 

“About what?” 

Chris shoots him a steely gaze, as if there are any number of reasons for him to be worried, and Viktor shouldn’t even have to ask. After a moment, he just shakes his head with a short laugh. 

“I was worried you wouldn’t be able to work with another person after this.” He gestures down to his chest and legs, like ‘this’ needs any more explanation. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to put this aside and have a new partner, especially considering how long it took for you to trust  _ me  _ in the beginning.” 

“I like to think that you were good for me, in terms of playing nice with others,” Viktor muses, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning back in the stiff, plastic chair. 

“Mmm, flattery I see, but it’s not a good enough deflection, I’m afraid. You can’t say that you’re overly fond of teamwork, no matter how many fake smiles you put on.” 

“Clearly, being your partner for so long was a mistake,” Viktor says and Chris just laughs beside him. Viktor jumps when a hand lands on his shoulder and he looks up to meet Chris’ serious gaze and his fragile facade falls apart all over again. 

“I’m really glad, Viktor,” he says, eyes locking with Viktor’s. “I can worry a little less if you have a partner that you’re willing to work with.” 

Viktor nods, his hand reaching up to grip Chris’ as he does. 

“Yeah.” 

__

Viktor has only just finished his usual morning bickering with Yuri when Yakov’s door flies open and he looks between Viktor and Yuuri who is having a conversation with Yuuko at her desk. 

“Detective Nikiforov, Detective Katsuki, get in here,” he orders shortly. Yuuri straightens up immediately, shoulders stiff as he walks toward Yakov briskly. Viktor sighs as he drapes his coat over his chair before ambling over. Yakov gives him an exasperated glance, but Viktor is sure there’s a hint of fondness in it as well. 

As soon as the door closes, Viktor notices the two additional figures standing by Yakov’s desk and raises an eyebrow to Yakov who ignores him and sits in his chair. “Detectives, this is Mila Babicheva and Sara Crispino. They’re Art Experts, and have offered to help with the investigation upon my request.” 

“Experts?” Yuuri asks, looking between the two women who just smile pleasantly. “Um, it’s good to meet you, thank you for your help,” he adds after a moment, sticking his hand out to them. Mila shakes his hand first, a kind grin on her soft face. Her red hair waves lazily as she tilts her head to the side. 

“We specialize in authentication,” she says by way of explanation. Sara flicks her hair over her shoulder as she shakes Yuuri’s hand as well. 

“We’d like to try to help you link all the works that have been stolen if we can, find any similarities that might be significant. Captain Feltsman said that this case is connected to a few others from the 1970’s, right?” 

“We believe so,” Viktor says, glancing to Yakov, who just nods back to him. “We’ve been able to make connections to at least six cold cases so far.”

“This is going to be exciting,” Sara says. 

Even as she smiles, Viktor can’t help the odd feeling in his gut. But if Yakov brought them in, there’s no reason for him to suspect anything. He’s probably just tired. He spent the better part of the night trying to convince himself to delete his letter of resignation. It didn’t happen, but he was pleased with how close he was. 

He shakes away the thoughts and nods to Mila and Sara. 

“We’ll give you our full cooperation, and whatever you need to work. The files with each painting’s description and photo are yours to look through as well.” 

“Thank you, Detective,” Mila says. “We’ll get to work right away, then.” 

Viktor nods as he and Yuuri leave Yakov’s office. 

“Are you alright, Viktor?” Yuuri asks at his side and Viktor just nods. 

“Yeah, I just didn’t sleep well last night,” Viktor says, and he sees Yuuri grimace at the words ‘last night.’ They both know it’s not an uncommon occurrence at this point. Still, Viktor ignores the look Yuuri gives him. “Come on, we just got the security footage for a hardware store robbery I’ve been waiting for.” 

Yuuri looks skeptical, but he doesn’t say anything as he follows after Viktor. As they turn toward Georgi’s small office near the records room, Yuuri speaks up. 

“The Fire Commissioner called this morning, by the way,” he says. 

“And?” 

“They’re suspending their investigation of the tenant for now. They said that the evidence we found was compelling, and they’re willing to help us in any way that they can. He was...very enthusiastic.” 

Viktor snorts, nodding with a smirk. 

“That’s very befitting of his character.” 

Georgi jumps up from his chair as soon as they walk into his office and gestures toward one of the many screens along his wall. 

“Viktor, you finally made it, perfect. I’ve already looked through the footage, and everything seems to match up with what the shop owner said in her official statement,” he says. Viktor nods, sitting down in the chair Georgi gestures to. Yuuri leans on the back of the chair and stares at the screen as Georgi rewinds it. Viktor does his very best not to think about Yuuri’s chest brushing against his shoulder or how close he is right now. That would be unprofessional and Viktor is  _ very  _ professional. This is fine. 

Viktor clears his throat as the tape reaches the beginning and starts to play. He just needs to focus. 

“Were you able to get an ID on the robber?” he asks. 

Georgi purses his lips and shakes his head slightly. 

“Not anything substantial, unfortunately. The shop owner's camera is pretty old and not great quality. We’re working with what we have, though, and I already have Minami working as fast as he can.” 

Viktor nods, his attention turning back to the tape as a customer leaves and the robber walks inside. 

“Wait, rewind it,” Yuuri says suddenly and Viktor frowns. 

“He hasn’t even robbed the store yet, Yuuri.” 

Yuuri shakes his head, pointing at the screen as Georgi rewinds the tape anyway. His finger lands on the customer who leaves before the robber enters. 

“Isn’t it strange that at no point does the camera catch this person’s face? They’re deliberately hiding their face from the camera the  _ entire  _ time they’re in the store,” he says. Viktor turns back to the screen and leans in to get a better look. Yuuri is right, the camera never gets a glimpse of the person’s face from the moment the enter the store to when they exit past the robber. 

“That’s pretty suspicious,” Viktor agrees. 

“Hmm...what are they buying?” Yuuri muses as he leans closer and his chest brushes against Viktor’s shoulder again and he tries not to make it obvious as he holds his breath. Georgi still shoots him a smirk when he does, but he ignores it on principal. He pauses the video and Yuuri gasps softly, leaning away. “Is that...butane?” 

“It looks like it. And a  _ lot  _ of it,” Viktor adds. 

“What’s important about butane?” Georgi asks, looking between Viktor and Yuuri with a slight frown. 

“The accelerant used in the barbershop fire was butane,” Viktor says softly. 

“You guys don’t think this could…?” 

Yuuri just nods slowly. 

“It definitely might,” he says. “How far is this store from the barbershop?” 

“About six blocks,” Viktor says as he stands up and looks at Yuuri, his heart beating against his ribs and his body tingling with a rush of adrenaline. 

“Let’s get some more information from the hardware store owner,” Yuuri says, already halfway out the door. 

“Let me know as soon as you get any leads on the robber,” Viktor says to a shellshocked Georgi who just nods slowly and watches him leave. 

__

“I thought I told you guys everything you needed to know,” the shop owner grouses as soon as Viktor and Yuuri enter. She leans on the counter and regards both of them with suspicion that Viktor has grown used to after years of being on the force. 

“We’re not here about the robbery, Ms. Odagaki,” Viktor says as he approaches the counter. Her mouth pulls down into a grimace. “We’re still working on finding a positive ID of the robber,” he adds to prevent any accusations about shoddy police work. 

“Then why are you here?” she asks, sounding tired. 

“Do you recognize this customer? They would have left at about the same time that the robber entered the store,” Yuuri says, lifting his phone to show a picture of the customer from the video Georgi had shown them. Kanako Odagaki stares at the blurry photo for a moment before recognition passes over her features. 

“Oh! Yeah, she bought out my entire supply of butane,” she says. 

“Did she buy anything else?” Yuuri asks. Kanako thinks for a moment before nodding slowly. 

“Yeah, she bought a cheap lighter, too. I remember thinking it was weird because she already had a pack of matches in her pocket. I saw her light up outside the shop before she came in.” 

Viktor turns in time to see Yuuri looking at him with thinly veiled hope. Another lead. 

“You didn’t find this suspicious?” Viktor asks. Kanako shoots him a glare. 

“I try not to ask too many questions, especially in this neighborhood,” she says back, voice sharp. Viktor nods without further question. She has a point. 

“Thank you, Ms. Odagaki,” Yuuri says bowing his head slightly, or it might have been a nod, Viktor isn’t completely sure. “We will keep you informed regarding the robbery as well.”

Viktor’s phone starts ringing as Kanako responds and he steps outside with a nod toward the door in Yuuri’s direction. 

“Nikiforov,” he answers blandly. 

“Viktor, hey. Minami was able to get a positive ID on that robber,” Georgi says and Viktor pauses. 

“That was rather quick,” he comments. Georgi laughs. 

“Yeah, I don’t know what it was, but as soon as I told him that Katsuki was also working the case with you, Minami was twice as motivated.” 

Viktor hums softly. 

“Seems that Yuuri has a fan,” he muses. “So, tell me about the perp. What are we looking for?” 

“It’s that collar you and Chris lost to the 11th a couple years back,” Georgi says just as a large figure rounds the corner and Viktor’s stomach drops. 

“Shit,” he whispers as the man stares right into his eyes and leers. 

“He was a pretty tough guy, right?” 

“Yeah, and I’m looking right at him,” is all Viktor says before he hangs up and reaches for his gun. 

“Not even a ‘hello’ after all this time, Detective Nikiforov? How terribly impolite,” he drawls, reaching his hands up. This is too easy, Viktor knows that it is, but Yuuri isn’t out of the shop yet. 

“Keep your hands where I can see them, Jameson,” he commands. The world tilts a little bit, and maybe he really should have tried to sleep a little bit more last night. A headache has been pounding dully all day but as his hand closes around his handcuffs, his head pulses. 

The next thing he feels is a hand around his throat and a tight grip around his wrist. His gun clatters to the ground at his feet and he’s pulled tight against Jameson’s chest, his throat still caught in the man’s tight grip. His arm is twists behind his back, his shoulder tugging painfully.

Yuuri emerges from the shop a moment later and draws his gun in a second. Viktor watches the dark look on Yuuri’s face take over and Jameson moves his body further behind Viktor with a wide grin. 

“That’s not the same guy you worked with the last time I saw you, Detective. You cops sure do have a high turnover rate, don’t you?” 

Viktor’s chest aches, and he’s not sure if it’s from the memories or the lack of oxygen, but his vision is starting to get spotty. He tugs at Jameson’s hand around his throat with his free hand and gasps as his other hand is twisted further behind his back. 

“Yuuri, take the shot!” he says. 

“You shoot and I crush his throat,” Jameson says quickly, shouting over Viktor and squeezing Viktor’s neck for emphasis. Viktor knows he can do it, too. His and Chris’ biggest problem with him in the past was his sheer strength, which always helped him in resisting arrest. 

Yuuri’s hands are shaking, Viktor can see them, and his eyes are no longer dark and focused. He looks anxious and scared. Viktor’s vision is starting to blur again and he struggles harder. Yuuri is still frozen, but his eyes are locked just over Jameson’s shoulder and Viktor only has a second to wonder why.

“Hands in the air, asshole.” 

Viktor has never thought he would be this glad to hear Yuri Plisetsky’s grumpy growl in his life, but there’s a first time for everything. Jameson’s hand tightens around Viktor’s throat for a long, torturous moment before he lets go with a growled promise for revenge. Very cliche in Viktor’s opinion, but most robbers are, he’s noticed. 

Viktor stumbles forward, bracing to meet the ground when a warm body grabs him instead. He coughs, his hand reaching up to rub at his throat, wincing as he can feel where the bruising is going to start. 

Yuuri holds him up, his body stiff as Viktor leans on him. He can’t stop turning the memory of Yuuri freezing up over in his head. What happened? It was as if Yuuri lost every ounce of confidence he had when he drew his gun. What could have made him shift so drastically?

Viktor stands up straight after another moment, clearing his throat as he turns to see Yuri forcefully cuffing Jameson. Before Viktor can ask, Yuri shoves the burly man in Yuuri’s direction. 

“Georgi called me. I was finishing canvassing the area two blocks away for a B&E. Are you okay?” 

“Fine,” Viktor says, still absently rubbing his throat. His voice is hoarse and he winces at the sound. Yuri glares at him. 

“Katsuki and I will bring this guy in. Go to the hospital. If you don’t, I  _ will  _ tell the Captain, old man.” 

Viktor wants to protest, but the thought of Yakov looking disappointed at him again just isn’t something he wants to deal with today, so he just sighs and nods. 

“I’ll give Georgi the information we have on the Butane customer,” Yuuri says, tone clipped as he grips Jameson’s arm tightly. 

“Right,” Viktor says as Yuuri and Yuri drag him away and he’s left standing in front of the hardware store with the phantom memory of Jameson’s hands still hot and painful on his throat. 

__

Viktor sits on his couch that night dejectedly. Makkachin nudges at his hand from the floor and he runs his fingers slowly through his soft, curly fur. There was no permanent damage, just deep bruising on his throat and his wrist. He’ll be sore, but fine. 

He knows that his lack of sleep is visibly affecting his ability to be a good cop, but that doesn’t make it any easier to ignore the deep ache in his body every time he tries. It doesn’t stop the nightmares. 

A sharp, single knock on his door draws him to his feet. He pads forward with trepidation, because he knows that knock. After a day like today, he guesses it can’t be good, either. 

Yakov stands on the other side of the door holding a large paper bag. Viktor frowns. 

“I made pirozhki,” is all Yakov says before stepping into the apartment. Viktor lets him pass with a furrowed brow. 

“Why...aren’t you yelling?” Viktor asks as he finally shuts the front door behind himself and follows Yakov to the kitchen. Yakov sighs as he sets the bag on the counter and looks up to meet Viktor’s eyes. 

“Because I’m not here as your superior officer. I’m here as your guardian and the person who raised you for years.” 

“You were worried,” Viktor murmurs as he meets Yakov’s eyes and touches his throat, as if forgetting the very visible bruising there. 

“With good reason considering all I was told was that you were strangled and had gone to the hospital,” Yakov responds mildly as he pulls two plates down from the cabinet. He lays a pirozhok on each plate and sets them out on the counter. “Eat.” 

Viktor nods without argument, stepping forward and sitting down before lifting the pirozhok with a smile. “Are you alright, Vitya?” Yakov finally asks when they’re halfway through with their meal. Viktor shrugs. 

“I’ll be fine. There’s bruising and I’ll be sore for a while, but it’s not as bad as it looks.” 

Yakov nods and a comfortable, familiar silence consumes the room again. The only sound breaking it is that of Makkachin eating bits of pirozhki that Yakov sneaks to him every few minutes. Viktor smirks. 

__

“Where’s Yuuri?” Viktor asks as he enters the precinct the next morning to find the other man’s desk empty. Yuuko sits alone at her desk and smiles softly at Viktor as she speaks. 

“It’s his day off,” she explains. “But Georgi has some information for you, I think.” 

Viktor nods absently, noting the other officers very obviously  _ not  _ looking at his neck. 

“Was he alright yesterday? I wasn’t able to see him after he and Yurio brought Jameson in.” 

Yuuko doesn’t seem to have the same qualms that the other officers do as she looks over his throat critically, her eyes glancing between it and his wrist. 

“He’ll be fine. He was a bit quiet and distracted yesterday, but he’ll be back to his usual self tomorrow, I have no doubt.” 

Viktor nods again. He supposes Yuuko has known Yuuri a lot longer than he has. From what Viktor has gathered, they stayed in touch after Yuuko left and hung out even when Yuuri was still at the 12th. Still, Viktor can’t shake the stiff, closed-off expression Yuuri wore as he walked away yesterday. 

He makes his way to Georgi’s office regardless, trying to be professional. He knocks once before opening the door to find Georgi sitting at his desk. Georgi turns as Viktor enters and smiles tiredly. 

“Viktor, perfect timing. I think Minami and I managed to get a couple possible suspects for you based off the description from the shop owner. Katsuki brought in the security footage from the shop across the street yesterday, as well, so we were able to narrow it down a bit more.” 

“Really? Let’s hear them,” Viktor says, leaning on Georgi’s desk beside him and watching the way his eyes flicker away after catching on his neck. 

“The first is Anya Sokolov. She’s a small-time criminal, mostly small fires and petty theft, but her rap sheet lists butane as one of her preferred accelerants.” 

“She sounds pretty spot-on,” Viktor says. 

“The problem was her description. The shop owner said the customer had blonde hair, while Sokolov’s last mugshot shows her with dark brown. Not that hair dye isn’t easy to buy, just wanted to make sure that we covered all of our bases.” 

“Got it. Who else?” 

“Two others. There’s Malorie Grant, another petty thief with a pension for firestarting. Her usual accelerant is kerosene, but she could be trying to throw us off her trail. The last one is Sierra Kole. She was released on good behavior five months ago for grand larceny. It wasn’t a painting, but it’s something.” 

“This is great, Georgi, thank you,” Viktor says, nodding as Georgi hands him each of the possible suspects’ files. “Thank Minami for me, as well.” 

Georgi nods as he waves Viktor out the door. 

They’re actually getting somewhere with this case  _ finally _ . Yuuri will be thrilled. 

When Viktor gets back to his desk, he sets out each of the folders Georgi handed to him and sets out working on narrowing it down to one possible suspect. 

He doesn’t notice the day passing by him until a warm hand lands on his shoulder. It’s close to six in the evening and Viktor jumps as he looks up. Yuuko grins at him. 

“Have you gotten anything?” 

Viktor nods, running his hands down his face as he focuses on the precinct again. 

“I’ve narrowed it down to either Sokolov or Grant. Kole’s probation officer confirmed her whereabouts on the day of the robbery.” 

“Good. You should probably be getting home soon,” Yuuko tells him. He knows she’s right, she always is, but he can’t help the little flicker of doubt at the thought. He’s close to the answer. He knows that he is. Yuuko pats his shoulder, drawing him from his thoughts before removing her hand. She turns to walk away, but pauses, turning her head over her shoulder and speaking softly. 

“When he’s frustrated, Yuuri usually goes to the shooting range.” 

She walks away without waiting for Viktor to respond. 

__

Viktor walks into the range with a little trepidation. What if Yuuko was wrong? Why would Yuuri even  _ be  _ frustrated? Was he upset with his aim? Is that why he was afraid of shooting yesterday? Was he not confident with his skill? It wasn’t like having perfect aim was a requirement, he shouldn’t be frustrated. Viktor bites his lip as he hears activity further down and follows the sound of a gun firing quickly. 

Viktor peeks around the corner to find Yuuri standing in the furthest stall, stance strong and firing his gun steadily. 

So he  _ is  _ practicing. Viktor is sure he can’t be  _ that  _ bad a shot if he’s a detective, so he waits as Yuuri stops when he runs out of bullets in his current clip and presses the button to pull his target sheet forward. 

His breath catches in his throat as he sees the sheet. 

It’s  _ perfect _ . Each shot is clustered in the center of the target with deadly accuracy. 

Viktor can see a pile of similar sheets on the ground beside Yuuri and feels his heart start to pound against his ribs. Yuuri is a better shot than  _ he  _ is, why would he ever have doubt about it when he performs this well, and  _ consistently _ ? 

Viktor watches as Yuuri examines his most recent target sheet with a scowl. His fingers brush against the hole furthest from the center, though still well within the target barrier. Yuuri sighs and shakes his head, taking down the target and putting a clean one up in it’s place and sending it back to the end of the range. 

Viktor taps his lips in thought. 

He needs to somehow make Yuuri more confident in his skill as a marksman. He can do that. It might even be fun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading!!! We’ll be getting more into Yuuri’s past here soon and the case is gonna be heating up a bit next chapter so stay tuned!!  
> Just for fun, here are a couple things I had to type into google to write this chapter and that probably landed me on some kind of list:  
> -Popular arson accelerants  
> -Is butane a good accelerant in arson  
> -Butane in arson  
> -Where to purchase butane  
> -Do all lighters use butane  
> -Things to break in a throat  
> -Larynx trauma  
> Well, that aside, if you have a moment and something to say please leave me a comment and let me know how I’m doing!!  
> Also! Come talk to me on [tumblr](https://v-k-niliforv.tumblr.com/) @v-k-niliforv !!!  
> ((PLEASE COME [HERE](https://the-katuki-niliforv.tumblr.com/) NOW!! I AM NO ON THAT OTHER TUMBLR ANYMORE))  
> Have a good, safe day!  
> ~JD


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